


The Serpent and The Liar

by RedGold



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: But not in Loki/Sigyn's relationship, Canon Compliant, Controlling Behavior, F/M, In Loki/Sigyn's relationship, Insinuations of Dubcon/Rape, Manipulations, Mild trigger warnings, Mythological Retelling, Pushes the T Rating in later chapters, Slow Burn, but not sexually explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 95,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedGold/pseuds/RedGold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki Odison is a showoff, a performer in need of an audience, Sigyn has always known this. When one of his tricks goes awry, they both become trapped in a cave that even Heimdall's vision cannot see. Surrounded by Skathi, the prince is gravely wounded and Sigyn must protect him until help arrives. Through this trial, a bond forms between them that could be her salvation, if it doesn't ruin her life. </p><p>And it begs the question: who the Serpent and who is the Liar?</p><p>This is a retelling of the mythological Loki/Sigyn serpent story (and other stories) to be compliant to the MCU and explains who/where Sigyn is in the movies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fiction to be posted on A03 and my second Loki/Sigyn.  
> I wrote it for NaNoWriMo 2014 and it's over 30 chapters at this point.  
> I should be able to post regularly.

Falling

She remembered screaming, not exactly stoic or befitting of the daughter of an Air General. Being thrown across the Nine Realms and falling onto scraggly rocks seemed like a worthy enough reason to allow it.

Coughing, Sigyn rolled over onto her side, blood on her lips. She ached in several places, her wrist hurt, possibly sprained, and there was a horrible scrape down her arm where her sleeve was ripped open. Luckly, most of her body took the impact against something softer than stone...

"Loki!" She remember she wasn't alone as her wits came about her, but she could not see him, only hear his ragged breaths.

Creating a ball of light was one of the most basic magic spells she had been taught when she was a young girl of a hundred or so. She was hurt and slightly disorientated, but she was able to pull enough strength to create a small ball of light big enough to illuminate the area. Making sure it was stable, she tossed it up so it would hover above her at about the height of an over-tall man.

"Sigyn," his voice was weak and she looked over her shoulder to see her friend lying on his back amongst the rocks.

"Loki," this time she tried to hide the worry in her voice.

Hours ago they had been in the Royal Library on Asgard. Several children of the royal court were gathered about, waiting to see what the prince would do next. While Sigyn had been taught her magic in the schools, the prince had received much more care in his training which gave him a singular and deft touch that she and the others could only admire. 

But as much as Loki's mother had always taught the importance of patience, her son was only patient when it suited him. He was slightly obsessed with not exactly forbidden magic, but magic that likely should have been left well enough alone. This included magic that allowed one to travel between the Nine Realms by finding the soft spots and creating natural fissures that one could simply walk through.

He had been successful and could not wait to show off his abilities, and, in truth, it had been rather impressive to the gathered students. Embolden, Loki kept at it, trying to do more than augment a natural fissure and create his own so that he could literally go from one place to the next without having to find an area 'close enough'.

In this, he failed.

Sigyn crawled over to Loki, his breathing shallow and labored.

Loki had created a fissure as part of his Realm-Walk spell, asking if anyone would like to accompany him to Vanaheim. Since a spell like this had never been known to work, everyone became hesitant, except Sigyn who was entirely too keen to see it work. She had always wanted to travel and thought that this may be her best chance before her life became domestic and dull. It did not escape her eyes that Loki was well pleased that she had chosen to trust him.

But something went wrong and they went crashing through the Nine Realms, falling in what seemed like an endless loop. They had clung to each other for no better reason than fear. Sigyn had no idea what exactly had gone wrong and Loki was seemingly unable to stabilize the rift he had created. When they finally fell from the fissure they were only a few meters above the ground but the force of the rift threw them as if they had been shot from a cannon.

Loki took the brunt of it, Sigyn falling on top of him.

“By Valhalla,” she muttered before pulling herself together and moving closer to check his wounds.

“How does it look?” he bit out while trying to make light, a terrible combination.

“Nothing out of place,” she offered an assurance seeing that no limb looked obviously broken, but there was blood seeping into his clothing, making it shiny and wet all down his left side.

“Small wonders,” Loki’s breathing was still labored, “I think I’m going to rest here a moment.”

He was not inclined to move and she wondered if he had any internal damage from the fall. If he kept still then his body would heal it quickly enough provided there was nothing else to worry about.

Not needing to be asked, Sigyn moved forward and started to give him a more thorough examination. First she looked at his head, running her fingers down the sides and slowly underneath making sure not to move his neck. She only found some blood already drying from a wound above his temple, and there was no bruising starting to appear on his neck. Asgardians were a hardy people, known for having very thick skulls, but one could never be too careful.

Sigyn had been wearing a cape overcoat, so she pulled it off and laid under his head to make him more comfortable. All he gave her in return was a muffled thanks as his breaths continued to be jagged.

A check of his left arm found it to be sprained but not broken. The sleeves of his coat and undershirt had become ripped as he skidded on the ground. It had been just enough to cause some nasty looking scrapes, but nothing that wouldn’t heal in a short amount of time.

When she moved down to his legs, his right one was fine but as she touched his left leg she was shocked by the shear amount of cursing that poured from Loki’s lips at her.

“Why did you do that?!” he shouted as he calmed down.

“I’m checking your wounds!” she shouted back, he hadn’t complained when she was touching his head, torso, and arms moments ago. “I think your broke your leg.”

His glare held for a moment, then his eyes softened as he admitted, “I think you are right, I can’t move it.”

Sigyn thought she saw something she never thought she’d ever see from Loki Odison: fear.

He tried to hide the emotion behind his usual mask of cleverness and disdain, but it was slipping, barely holding. If the Son of Odin, a Prince of Asgard, felt fear in this moment then it was instinct that told her she should too. But she couldn’t let the fear take hold of her, she needed to stay strong just long enough for Hemidall to find them.

“I hope these aren’t your favorite pair,” she tried to joke as she gently grabbed the cuff of his trousers where it was already ripped.

“Be careful,” he breathed as he braced for more pain.

“I’ll be gentle,” she replied softly.

Trying not to do so much as breath on his leg, Sigyn tore his trousers so she could see what kind of damage had been done. Loki winced a few times and mumbled ‘careful’ more often than she appreciated, but she managed to expose his leg from his boot to his knee. There was a large scrape to match the one on of his arm and it had been bleeding through, thankfully it now looked to be already clotting and scabbing.

The leg itself was dirty, covered in bruises, and there was a slight bulge where there shouldn’t be.

“It didn’t break the skin,” she said with relief.

It takes a lot of force to break an Asgardian’s leg bone, and usually finding just the right angle for torque. If Loki had fallen by himself he might have come out reasonably unscathed. Sigyn wanted to feel guilty for his leg as it was likely her addition that caused the physics to be just right, but then she remembered that it was Loki who caused them to fall in the first place.

“I’m going to have to set it,” and that she did feel some regret for as it was going to hurt, horrifically, but it had to be done. "Do you have something to bite down on?"

Loki's hands went to his belt, but he had trouble with the clasp as his left hand was still healing from the horrendous gash. 

"Here," she reached forward without thinking, undoing the clasp swiftly. It wasn't until she was slipping the belt off that she felt awkward about it, trying to hide a blush. 

"What would Theoric think?" again the man tried to make light as he took the offered leather from her.

"He's a kind and understanding man," she thought of her betrothed as she went back to attending the prince’s leg.

"How good for him," Loki replied drolly, laying the belt over itself.

Ignoring him, she touched his leg gently to find where the break started and where she would need to apply pressure. Loki hissed at her, but he curved his language, there was no way she could do this without causing pain.

"Ready?" she asked once she was sure as she could be with what medical training she had. In truth, she knew only the basics of battle medicine, the kind of stuff all Asgardians where taught. Sigyn was much more interested in magic and politics, she knew from an early age she was not interested in pursuing the healing arts.

Loki bit down on the belt, then nodded, steeling himself with a deep breath. Sigyn braced herself against his good leg, trying to hold him completely still. Gently she gained a firm grasp on his flesh, ignoring his hisses of pain. Closing her eyes so she could feel nothing but his damaged leg, she twisted swiftly and forced the bone back into place.

There was a sickening crack and Loki bucked as his scream was swallowed by his clenched teeth. She held him down as best she could so that he would not undo the setting of the bone, but he was much stronger than her. The knee of his good leg came up and struck her in her chest, causing her to fall backwards, hitting her head on the ground.

It was just a minor blow, nothing her Asgardian body couldn’t handle, but she fell awkwardly on her sprained hand which hadn’t quite healed yet and she let out a small yelp of pain.

“Sigyn?” Loki’s voice was coarse.

“I’m fine.” She rolled to her side and sat up, feeling her breastbone where he connected with her. It would only hurt for a moment.

“It was a natural reaction,” he said by way of apology, it was as close of one she would ever get from him as Loki was not the kind to outright admit to any fault. He hadn’t even offered any apologies for getting them into this mess in the first place.

“You didn’t dislodge your leg, did you?” She moved back over him, careful not to touch the leg until she was sure he wouldn’t knee her again.

“No,” he had calmed down, “it still hurts, but not like before.”

“It’s healing,” she frowned, afraid it might not knit back properly, but I have an idea.”

First she found a rock, a few meters high, and sat it down next to his broken leg. Sigyn then grabbed the catches of her corset, quickly popping them so it came away from her body. She was now left in the slip of her dress and in any other setting it would be highly scandalous. 

Loki coughed nervously, “I hope Theoric is as understanding as you say.”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes at him, getting back down on her knees next to his left leg, “this will act as a brace.”

“Be careful,” he warned her again as she put her hand under his boot covered ankle, her other hand grabbing the rock which would do as a prop.

“I’ve been trying.” Sigyn was getting frustrated with his constant concerns, it’s not like she enjoyed seeing him in pain.

Lifting his leg slowly, Loki continued to groan and hiss as she positioned the rock under his ankle. His leg now supported, she did her best to wrap the corset tightly without undue pain. She was doomed of course, his leg was much thinner than her torso which meant she had to wrap it around itself and pull it tight. 

A string of curses flowed filled the air but she ignored them, he didn’t mean them, it simply help him deal with the pain. 

“There,” she backed off, keeping the leg propped up, “it should be healed well enough to walk on in a few hours, then we can find our way out of here.”

The young man looked between the impromptu brace and her disheveled figure. “Thank you,” the clear words seemed foreign on his lips and she couldn’t help her eyes widening at the fact she was there to actually hear him say them.

“You’re welcome,” she replied softly, standing up and dusting off her dress as she tried to put herself into some semblance of properness. Glancing around, she finally noticed the odd color of the stone. It was a bluish black, yet it seemed to absorb light. “Where are we?”

“I believe we’re in the Dark World or similar,” he also looked around, “the caves are made of gleipnir. Help me sit up.”

She went to his side, helping him to move without jerking his leg very much. “Can’t gleipnir be used to hide oneself from Hemidall’s sight? That’s why it’s called the Dark World?”

“In large enough quantities,” Loki made an annoyed tsk, a straight frown pressing against his lips, “which we have here.”

Squatting next to him, Sigyn looked around at the stone walls which was now their prison. Behind them, the cavern continued into shadows that the light from her magic could not reach, “There has to be a way out.”

“If not, mother will find us,” he assured her, turning to look at her only to find himself nearly nose deep against her breasts. Quickly facing forward, he coughed and continued, “she will pick up the trail the spell left behind and dispatch legions to search every corner of these caves for us.”

“But how long will that take?” She frowned, standing up to extract herself from him. Sigyn then pointed to the darker edges of the cave. “I’m going to look around a bit, it’s possible there is an exit just around that bend.”

“Don’t go too far,” there was a hint of worry in his voice, but then he added, “I can’t come running to rescue you if you fall or something.”

“I know, Loki,” she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be sad, the prince was afraid and doing everything to cover up that fact. Did he not understand it was okay, he didn’t always have to be the strong one, even Thor was honest enough to admit this. Granted, the older prince still tended to run head first into everything anyway, but he did not have the same drive to prove himself that Loki seemed to have.

Sigyn created another ball of light, this time lifting it up into the air to follow beside her and light her path. She barely got a few steps when she saw them, the glowing red eyes. 

“Loki,” she tried not to let any panic show, whatever the eyes were attached to hadn’t attacked them yet so there was good reason to believe they were not outwardly aggressive.

“I see it,” he called back to her cautiously, “send the light over to them.”

Nodding, mostly to herself, she willed the ball of light towards the creatures slowly, unsure if they would react negatively to it. They moved, only a little bit, and their slithering bodies became visible.

“Skathi serpents,” she breathed a sigh of a relief.

“Skathi serpents?” Loki questioned that he heard her correctly.

“Yes,” Sigyn took a few steps forward so she could see the specific patterning on their scaly skin. She had seen the design in several of her books, their bodies black except for ivory-colored arrow-head shaped scales that traveled down the length of their bodies. It was said they had a few natural habitats, one of which was the Dark World. “They are friendly towards Asgardians,” she moved even closer and they generally treated her with disinterest, “they will not bother us.”

“You sure?” he did not sound convinced, “I see more over here, they have come from the small crevices in the wall.”

Sigyn looked back and saw them too, they sat riveted at the edge of the main sphere of light, “They are simply curious or else they would have attacked already, no need to fear.”

“Well then,” he sat up a little straighter, “best be finding that exit.”

Trying not to shake her head at him, Sigyn continued back down the open end of the room. It narrowed slightly, but then widened, opening into a much larger cavern, seemingly no exit in sight. Sigyn sent the light up into the center, or as close as she could figure, and increased the intensity of the beam. All she saw was more juts, stalagmites, stalactites, and shadows. Any one of them though could lead to the outside, but now was not the time to explore.

A sent caught her nose, it was cold, fresh, and clean. If she listened carefully, she could hear the trickle which lead her towards where the ground dipped and the wall was shiny. 

“Water,” she whispered, then turned back towards the entrance to the smaller cavern, “Loki, I’ve found water.”

Her declaration was met by a piercing howl.

“Loki!” she shouted, running through the cave, her eyes adjusting as quickly as they could as she passed through partial darkness. 

It was only a few long strides, but it seemed like leagues as she came upon the sight before her. 

Loki was beset by serpents, more than she could count. At least two were already dead that she could see, having been stabbed by his dagger, and he kicked at another that snapped at his good leg. 

“Get away!” he shouted, “you horrible creatures!”

More Skathi were coming towards him, so Sigyn didn’t stop. Running straight up to the downed prince, she grabbed the tail of the first snake within reach. With a firm grasp, she snapped the serpent like a whip, slamming its head against the ground. She wasted no time grabbing a second and third, using her Asgardian strength to down the animals that were attacking them, well, attacking Loki.

One of the snakes, this one with darker, more reddish arrow-head scales, marking it as female, hissed at her as she reached for it, spitting its venom at her. Sigyn threw her hand out to guard herself, the liquid feeling like acid when it touched her skin. 

With a groan of pain, she grabbed the snake right under its head. Pointing the fangs away from her, she crushed its body which tremored before it went slack.

“Why do you attack us?!” she shouted, holding the dead female high, the other Skathi retreating back into the crevices. 

“Sigyn,” she heard Loki say behind her.

“That’s so odd,” she frowned, seeing that the Skathi were gone now and she was afraid they may be regrouping, “they have no quarrel with Asgardians. Now the Kree, or the Jotun, or even the Primeans…”

“Sigyn!” Loki shouted.

Turning around, Loki was positively pale, even worse than before when she set his leg. Around him was the dead bodies of the serpents he had killed, one with its teeth still latched in the thick leather of his coat. They were grouped near his leg, the exposed skin a prime target, and he had done well to defend himself. Unfortunately, one of the snakes bit at his left arm where the fabric was torn.

“Skathi are poisonous,” Loki had the remnants of the sleeve pulled back, two red whelps glaring prominently on the skin, “aren’t they?”

Sigyn didn’t have to tell him yes, the fear in her eyes spoke for her.


	2. Venom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! :)

Venom

The dead Skathi fell from her hands as Sigyn moved to Loki’s side. “We need to create a tourniquet.”

“Yes, I know,” he bit back angrily. 

Ignoring him, she ripped the trim of her dress, creating an uneven but effective strip of fabric. He made no further jokes about indecency and that only made her worry more. Wrapping the length around his arm, just below his elbow, she pulled it as tight and taunt as she could. 

“Alright, let’s see how bad it is,” she tried to say the words soothingly, but she was no healer, so she’d have to trust her diplomatic skills to save her in this moment.

“It bit pretty hard,” Loki’s voice was weaker than she had ever heard it before.

Pulling back the fabric to examine the area, the skin was covered in old, dry blood from already clotting and healing wounds. The two angry red welts from the serpent’s fangs stood out, glinting with fresh blood and puss. 

“They don’t look too deep,” she told him, but she could see the bluing of the skin, his veins popping up, now more prominent as the venom started to seep in. Seeing his dagger laying on the ground, she snatched it up and began to wipe it on her dress. “Do you have a flint?”

“What are you doing?” he asked even as he reached into his coat with his other hand.

“I’m going to slice the skin and get the venom out,” she told him bluntly, taking the flint from his hand. 

Asgardian technology was elegant in its design. Often it had the outward visage of something old, a relic, such as the flint which looked like nothing more than a piece of whetstone with a line of copper running through it. Sigyn held it in her hand and a brilliant flame appeared as it reacted to her thoughts. 

“Slice my skin,” he nearly shouted once the words sunk in.

“The less of the venom that settles in your veins,” she didn’t look at him as she quickly sterilized the knife, “the more likely you’ll survive it.”

“I’m not sure I want you operating on me,” he was looking even paler, nearly a very soft, pale shade of blue. She thought the blood must be rushing to the infected area, but she couldn’t be sure and once again cursed her lack of the healing arts.

“You don’t have a choice.” Sigyn knelt on one leg with the other propped up so she could lay his arm across her knee, then steadied herself. “Try not to hit me this time.”

“Right,” his breathing had gotten shallow.

Sigyn wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing, but she had read it in books and heard war stories from her father and brothers. All she knew for sure is that if she didn’t at least try then he was that much more likely to die.

Despite getting them into this mess and being an overall annoyance, she was rather fond of the prince.

Slicing into the skin, across the punctures, she used the tip of the dagger to open the skin and expose the damaged tissue below. Loki was less vocal about the pain, but that could have been because his body was much weaker and he looked as if he would faint.

“Alright, this will work,” she told him, putting confidence into the words.

Tipping his arm down over her leg, she started at the top of his forearm where the veining wasn’t quite as obvious. Kneading his arm, she worked the blood back down, hoping to push out every bit of venom that she possibly could. His blood was tinged yellow as it dripped out onto the ground and she tried to take that as a positive sign. 

Loki leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder.

“You alright?” Sigyn stopped, thinking he had passed out.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he bit out, but his breaths were still shallow, “just a little light headed.”

“Almost done,” again she had to sound much surer than she felt.

For what seemed like forever, Sigyn worked down his arm multiple times. She battled her fear that she could cause too much blood loss in the limb against the real threat of a concentrated enough amount of the venom reaching his heart. 

“I think we’re good,” or at least as good as she was going to get it, “I’m going to cauterize the wound.”

“Mmm,” was his only response and she was simply glad he hadn’t passed out.

Picking up the flint carefully, she didn’t want to cause him to fall over, she lit it and began to heat up the dagger. Instead of just sanitizing it, she heated it up until it started to glow. Once she was satisfied that it was hot enough, she stuck it in the wound after giving him a warning. This elicited a shout and he sat up, but he was too weak to pull his arm away. 

“I’m done,” she dropped the knife to the side, examining the area. It was red, pale, but the veining had subsided a little which was better than nothing. All they had to worry about was the venom that managed to make it into his system. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” he answered but he was still pale and tired looking, his skin slightly clammy.

She laid his arm gently across his lap and took off the tourniquet, knowing she couldn’t keep it on for too much longer, blood needed to circulate or else his Asgardian healing ability would be greatly stunted. Then she reached under the skirt of her dress for her petticoat, ripping a long, wide strip to be used as a bandage. 

“I found water in the other cavern,” she said as she dressed his wound, “I’m going to make some more rags, get you cleaned up.”

She moved to stand but his right arm reached across and grabbed weakly at her dress, “Don’t go.”

“I won’t go far,” she said soothingly, placing her hand over his.

“No…” his breathing became even more labored, “I lied… I’m not fine.”

Sigyn didn’t think he could get any paler, but it looked as if the adrenaline had worn off and he had gone into shock. Catching him before he could fall over, she moved behind him and cradled his body against her. 

“You can fight this, Loki,” she held him tight, unsure what else she could do at that point.

“You’ll make something up, for me, won’t you?” he mumbled, nearly delirious. “Tell them I died with honor.”

“No,” she fought back tears, it hurt her to hear her friend speak such things, “because you’re not going to die.”

He coughed and it seemed to hurt him, “Don’t think you have a choice in the matter, my dear Sigyn.”

Her own body was starting to give up on her, but she held him as tight as she dared as finally tears began to stream down her face. She had known the man for years, ever since he caught her sneaking books out of the Royal Library to study not just magic, but so many things. He didn’t tell on her, instead invited her into his entourage of fellow children of the court who spent more time with magic than swords.

He hadn’t been an easy friend at first, aloof and more than a little too self-assured. Through the years she had grown to appreciate his company, see him for what he truly was, not what he thought others needed to see. 

Loki was her friend and she wasn’t going to let it end like this.

“No,” she said harshly, “no, you are not allowed to die, Loki,” she took his right hand in hers and squeezed it tight, “I absolutely forbid it.”

“You forbid it?” he tried to laugh but it came out sad and miserable.

“Yes, I forbid you to die, Loki Odinson,” Sigyn said firmly, clearing her throat, “because how dare you die on me when I haven’t had a chance to get you back for dragging me into this mess.”

“Dragged you?” Loki again tried to use his usual snark but every word seemed to come from hollow bones. “You couldn’t wait to see my latest trick.”

“I can see through your tricks, Loki,” she reminded him. The prince was a deft hand at illusions, for sure, even better than herself with her provincial training, but he lacked a certain amount of grace that Sigyn could always pick out, like a gambler’s tell, “and I only wished this was one of them.”

“So do I,” he coughed again, “how can one feel both hot and cold at the same time?” 

Sigyn could tell he was getting frustrated, but she wasn’t sure why. Was he was angry that he was dying and he could do nothing about it, or was it that he had only himself to blame for being in this position? She still had no idea how he messed up the Realm-Walk spell, she dare not broach it with him now, maybe not ever. 

Finding her cloak where it had been shoved to the side, she threw it over his body. “Warmth is always better than coldness.”

Two red eyes appeared at the edge of the light, both she and Loki tensed but the Skathi made no move to come forward. 

“I don’t know why they attacked,” she frowned, wondering if she had perhaps misjudged the markings, “did you provoke them?”

“Of course I didn’t provoke them,” Loki defended himself and that set him to cough again. 

“Sorry,” Sigyn held him as his body wracked, “I didn’t mean to insinuate, it’s possible a begin gesture or, I dunno… maybe the blood?”

Loki had gone still, his weight seemingly increasing, so he called his name again but there was no response.

“No, wake up,” she told him as she realized he had passed out, his head lulling to the side, “wake up, Loki!”

He mumbled but it was less words and more air escaping his lungs. His skin was so clammy and pale with that lightly bluish tint. How much venom had made it into his nervous system? How fast could he heal against it? 

“Fight, Loki, fight it,” she spoke into his ear, holding him tight against her, “I won’t see you dead, Loki, you hear me?”

Still no response…

Tears once again ran down her face, “Please,” she whispered, “don’t die on me...”


	3. Water

Water

Sigyn lost track of time as she held the prince whose body would alternate between trembling and convulsing. Every time it got bad, she would hold him, sooth him, encourage him to fight and live. She told him stories, ancient tales of warriors and grand adventures. Anything to keep a friendly voice in his ear, something he could hopefully latch onto to keep him from succumbing to the darkness.

Eventually his pallor lessened and the clamminess subsided. She could only hope this meant his metabolism and healing had burned through the venom in his veins.

“And so Bor spirited the Aether away,” she continued to speak, her voice getting a bit hoarse, “and proceeded to route the Dark Elves, destroying their ships which fell from the sky—“

“Malekith,” Loki corrected her, his voice equally raw, “Malekith destroyed his own ships.”

"Loki!" Sigyn had never felt so glad to be corrected. She eased him in her arms and tried to get a better look at him. "How do you feel?"

"Stiff, sore," his throat sounded as if he had swallowed sand, "positively knackered."

"I think the worst is over," she told him, actually believing her words because he was awake and talking, "you just need to rest now."

"Rest, yes," he got droopy, as if he was dozing off into actual sleep.

"I'll go get that water," she started to move again, not realizing how stiff her own body had gotten from sitting so long in one place with his weight against her and nothing to rest against.

"No," he latched onto her arm, "the serpents."

"Have left us alone," she soothed, pointing to the shadows where not even red eyes were showing, "you need water, Loki, it will do you no good to get dehydrated."

His grip stayed firm, though weak for his typical strength, and his voice sounded so small, "Don't, Sigyn... don't leave me." There was a pleading in his tone that seemed unnatural coming from his lips. 

"Alright, Loki," she settled back in, "you rest, I will protect you, no matter what, I promise."

He slackened his hold on her, his weight once again getting heavier as he drifted off into sleep. She still worried about his health. The color had come back to his skin and the veining seemed to have receded on his arm, but she had no idea how he was really fairing. For all she knew, his insides were a mess, ravaged by the venom.

Sigyn tried not to think such thoughts. Loki was not only Asgardian, but he was a Prince, a Warrior, as hardy as they came. They would have been up and walking out of there already if not for the snake bite.

Eventually she heard him snoring lightly, more like a gentle wheeze, and she was left with a decision to make.

Easing him down gently so he lay flat on the ground, Sigyn stood and stretched her tired muscles. She could do with a rest herself but things needed to be done. First of which was clear away all the dead Skathi serpents which littered the area and were beginning to show signs of their death.

As she picked them up, she eyed their patterns and wondered if maybe this was a sub-species, maybe that is why they attacked. Though it did not explain why they left her alone in the other cavern. It could have been the blood, or even her gender. This particular part of the cave system could be a sacred space to the Skathi.

A thought came to her and instead of tossing the dead serpents to the side, she placed them around Loki's sleeping form, head to tail, encircling him.

"Head this warning," she called out to the shadows, "this man’s life is mine, you will not harm him again unless you wish to suffer the same fate as your fallen brethren."

From her readings, she knew the Skathi had some level of intelligence higher than normal serpents. Whether or not this meant they could literally understand her words, she wasn't sure. She hoped that the inflection of her voice and the dead bodies would be enough for them to get the hint.

As an added measure, she created a sonic illusion and tossed it up into the air to float near invisibly next to the light. There was a soft hum, barely audible, but if anything passed through it other than herself it would turn into a wailing screech.

Taking one last moment to ensure herself that she was doing the right thing. She created another ball of light and walked back out of the cavern towards the larger opening, constantly glancing back but never seeing a glint of the serpent's red eyes. In fact, when she started walking towards where she believe the water resided, the few Skathi still in that cavern slithered off.

Much to her relief, there was indeed a pool of non-stagnant water sitting in a depression of the cavern, it seemingly having trickled down the wall over who knows how long. She wanted to gulp it down but was still mind enough to be wary. Kneeling next to the edge, she brought the light closer and looked for any other cave dwelling creatures that might want to attack.

Seeing that the water was crystal clear and void of life, she dipped her hand in and brought a small portion to her mouth. Sigyn lapped up just a little, tasting for the possibility of dangerous chemicals or metals. Other than being heavy with natural minerals, it seemed to be perfectly clean to drink.

Cupping her hands she brought more to her mouth and tried not to make herself sick by drinking too much, knowing she had to keep her strength and care for the prince. That became her next concern, getting the water to Loki, or should she bring Loki to the water?

Off to the side she noticed several misshaped rocks. The gleipnir seemed to consist of layers, rather than a solid mass. If she remembered correctly, the dwarfs would mine the stone which was more of an ore. They could smelt it down and create near unbreakable metal with it, which seemed impossible because of how brittle it looked.

Grabbing one of the medium sized rocks, no bigger than a child's floating sphere, Sigyn examined it carefully. With just her nails she managed to chip away a layer, the stone flaking off. 

Pleased with the results, she found a fist sized rock and struck the larger stone with it causing the layers to crack and chip. It took several goes but she figured out the right angles to get the stone to do as she wished. Soon she had made several stone bowls, well, badly misshapen bowls which could hold a measure of water. It would work for her needs and that’s what mattered.

Filling two bowls, she carried them back towards Loki’s prone form. Her heart caught in her throat as saw him, hoping she had done right by leaving him. His body still laid there unmoving save for the slow movements of his chest, had had not been beset by serpents. She did see one pair of red eyes watching from the shadows, but it made no move to come forward. 

Sigyn sat the bowls down next to him, but not too close should he move suddenly in his sleep. Feeling somewhat confident in his safety, she quickly made her way back to the pool and gathered two more bowls of water. 

“Sigyn!” she heard Loki shout as she was on her way back, so she started to rush, spilling some of the water onto her dress.

“Loki, I’m here,” she called out as she entered into the smaller chamber.

Loki was sitting up on his elbows, breathing hard and glaring at her, “You left me!”

“I went to get water,” she slowed down her pace so she wouldn’t spill any more, “I left an alarm and a warning.”

His eyes went up to the sonic illusion, trying to calm himself, “You could do with refining the wavelength.”

“I know,” she tried to take the insult for what it was, Loki’s attempt at covering up the fact that for a moment he had been truly afraid, “but it worked for what I needed,” she lifted the smallest bowl and moved next to him, holding it out as she placed her hand to his back to steady him, “now drink, slowly.”

Loki gripped the bowl with his good hand and sniffed at the water, “Did you test it?”

“Yes,” she assured him, “it’s saturated in minerals, but nothing that can cause damage in these quantities. But drink slowly,” she reminded him as he brought the edge of the bowl to his lips, “you’re probably dehydrated and you don’t want to shock your system again.”

He nodded his understanding, drinking the water slowly from the bowl. Once he was done, Sigyn went to ripping more strips of cloth from her petticoat. At one point she decided to just sacrifice the whole thing, slipping it off so she could get better access to it.

“I think I’ll be owing Theoric a gallon of mead for his ‘understanding’ nature,” Loki commented and she was glad to see he was feeling better.

“He’s a better man than you,” Sigyn pointed out, unable to help herself, “you know that, right?”

“Is that why you agreed to marry him?” he replied drolly.

It was no secret to Sigyn that Loki liked her, but Loki liked a lot of girls, it hardly made the situation unusual. Except maybe in that she was one of the few to not let themselves fall victim to his charms. It wasn’t easy as he was very charming, but Sigyn had been betrothed to another and she would never cause dishonor to her family, even for a Prince of Asgard.

Besides, she preferred to see him as a friend, in a way that made their relationship special.

“One of the reasons,” she mumbled, satisfied with the amount of rags she had made. Sigyn moved over to his left arm and started to remove the bloody wrap she had placed on it earlier.

“You don’t love him though,” his words were quiet and curious as she gently worked at removing the last layer from his skin, the fabric stuck to the dried blood.

Sigyn tossed the bloody rag to the side and took a fresh one, dipping it into the water of a bowl before answering, “I care for him now, I’m sure I’ll grow to love him.”

“Arranged marriages are horrible things,” he muttered as she began to wash and clean his wound. 

“You’re a prince, Loki,” she reminded him, making sure she cleared away all the dry blood which was smeared down his arm, matting the thin hairs, “you’ll likely find yourself in one before long.”

“I’m sure I’ll find a way out of it,” he said then tsked, jerking his hand away, “don’t do that.”

“You’ve been to battle, Loki,” she grabbed his arm and pulled it back to her, “you can handle this.”

He pouted at her but ultimately let her continue her work of cleaning the wound and putting on a fresh dressing. From there she moved on to his face and neck, cleaning off blood, dirt and grime. He said nothing as she did so. She would say he was strangely shy if not for the fact he was above such an emotion, or at least he would claim to be so. But then he had just nearly died, and not fully recovered from the venom, perhaps she was seeing his true form? Or instead, this was just another facet, another mask, the only one he was able to wear in his condition.

Once she was finished cleaning him up, she moved down to his leg and examined it. “Can you move your foot?” she asked him as she decided if she should take off the makeshift brace.

Moving his foot caused him to wince, “I don’t think my leg has healed completely yet.”

“It’s healing slower than it should,” she frowned, “but that is likely because of the venom, your immune system has probably been compromised.”

“Did you set it back properly?” he asked her a bit indignantly. 

Sigyn rested the urge to slap him, “I’m not a healer, but I did what I could. It felt right.”

“Well, I suppose that’s something,” Loki could be insufferable at times, it seemed especially so when he was feeling vulnerable.

“Do you think you can stand?” she asked, looking around, “I think it would be better if we moved into the larger cavern. It’s closer to the water and we can look for an exit.”

“Probably for the best,” he agreed, bending his good leg and planting his hands squarely on the ground. He winced when he put too much of his body weight on his left hand and he awkwardly tried to figure out how he was going to get to his feet.

Sigyn wondered how long it would take for him to ask for her help, but decided it was better not to risk him hurting himself even worse just to save his pride. Getting behind him, she hooked her arms under his and eased him up so he was mostly standing on his good leg. He put weight on the broken one and winced again, stifling a yelp of pain.

“Perhaps I should help you walk,” she offered, moving to throw his left arm over her shoulder.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat, “this is embarrassing.” 

“It’s not embarrassing to need help, Loki,” she assured him, wrapping her arm around his torso and supporting his weight.

“No, I…” he chuckled nervously, “I really need to relieve myself now that I’ve stood.”

“Huh?” it took her a second, “Oh,” she had found a place in the other cave to take care of her own bodily functions earlier. She looked around and saw a portion of the wall which was relatively solid, no crevices where the serpents could be hiding, “Why don’t you we go over to that wall and I’ll leave you to it?”

Carefully she helped him hop towards the wall, he leaned up against it and looked down at her, “Are you going to watch?”

His tone was highly suggestive but she could hear it was hiding his own embarrassment at the situation, he was always one to use a joke to cover his own emotions. 

“I’ll take the supplies into the other cavern,” she maintained her dignity while gesturing to the rags and bowls, “call when you are done.”

She didn’t wait for a response and walked back to the circle of dead serpents, that is when Loki said, “The Skathi.”

“What about them?” she frowned as she threw the strips over her arm.

“They attacked last time you left me alone,” again there was that little touch of fear he couldn’t quite cover up.

“Oh, yes,” she understood this was a valid concern. She still hadn’t figured out why the Skathi were only aggressive towards Loki. More options came to mind, perhaps they sensed he was wounded, or he carried a sent from another animal he had come in contact with? 

“Skathi,” she stood and addressed the serpents directly, “remember, this man’s life is mine, you will not harm him.”

Nothing but silence answered her, the serpents having not emerged from the shadows. Sigyn’s eyes went to Loki who had the strangest look on his face, but it went away quickly and he nodded. 

Grabbing the rest of their things, what little there was, Sigyn went to the other cave, creating more balls of light to give the area better illumination. She kept an ear out for any sign of trouble as she took one of her new clothes and cleaned the wound on her hand from the Skathi venom that had burned at her skin. The venom did not get into her blood stream so it only caused redness and the skin to bubble angrily like a rash. She wrapped her hand to keep the dirt and grim out.

Eventually she heard her name called loudly, but in a normal tone. As she returned to Loki’s side, she could only hope that help would come soon.


	4. Collateral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading! :)

Collateral 

They settled into the larger cavern, near the water source. There was no food but they could survive for many days on the water alone if they needed to. Hopefully it would not to come to that as when Loki’s leg healed they would start walking and looking for an exit. 

But the venom had weakened his immune system and the lack of sustenance could also cause issue. It had truly become a waiting game of averages. What would happen first and would it be enough to save them?

Sigyn unwrapped his leg and cleaned the skin which was still tender to her touch. Loki assured her that it did indeed feel better, he had more motion in his foot without causing severe pain. She then rewrapped it with her corset so there would be no accidental movement of the bone.

“You realize you have blood on your face,” Loki said as he sat against a stalagmite. 

“What?” she blinked, her hands immediately going to her cheeks and feeling the layers of grime she assumed was sweat, tears, and dust.

“Your hair is a mess too,” he tried to make light, “but the blood does distract from your beauty.”

She frowned at him, picking up one of her rags to dip into the water. “Why must you always be this way, Loki?”

“Charming and dashing?” He grinned.

She rolled her eyes, “You’re impossible,” there was ways at beating him at his game but she was too tired to put in the effort. 

Sigyn ran the damp rag across her face, amazed at how good it felt to do something so little in their current condition. Pulling the fabric away, there was indeed dirt but she could see the rusty color of dried blood as well. Was the blood hers or Loki’s, she would probably never know.

She was about to put the rag down when Loki held his hand up, “You missed a few spots.”

“Did I?” she started to pat her face, “Where?

“Ah, a little to the left,” he said and she moved her hand, “no my left… too far,” then he let out an exhausted sound, “why don’t you come here and I’ll get it for you. Might be easier without mirrors.”

Slightly reluctantly, Sigyn moved to sit next to Loki who took the rag from her hand. Finding a clean portion of it, he wrapped it around two fingers to create a bit more precision and started to wipe at the curve between her nose and eye. From there he moved to her right eyebrow and swooped towards the temple. 

“Thank you,” she said as he worked his way down to her earlobe, then the curve of her chin.

“You’ve done more than this for me,” he said softly, seemingly honestly, but one could never be too sure with Loki, “I do not like to owe anyone anything, yet I owe you much, my dear Sigyn.”

“You owe me nothing, my prince,” she tilted her head slightly as he worked down her neck. His hand only lingered there shortly before going back up the other side of her face, “I would do the same for any other.”

“You’re saying I’m not special?” He frowned but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, sometimes the man loved to banter and argue simply because he could, just to see what he could win.

“I’m saying everyone is special.” Sigyn gave him a very tired look.

A smile tugged at his lips and he pulled his hand away. “Much better.”

“Thank you again.” She took the rag so she could toss it into one of the bowls she had made. 

“Sigyn,” he said before she had a chance to move, “what are you going to do with it?”

She looked blankly down at the rag. “I’m afraid it shant be salvaged.”

“Not the rag,” there was a tsk of annoyance in his voice, “my life.”

“Your life?” Now she stared blankly at Loki.

“Yes, my life,” his was a look of dead seriousness, “you told the Skathi that my life was yours. I was wondering what you planned on doing with it.”

This left her slightly speechless, she had not expected him to take her words as a declaration of truth. 

“Well?” he prompted when she didn’t speak.

“I suppose…” she thought for a moment, “I will likely give it back to you once we return home.”

He judged her for a moment, “Well, that’s rubbish.”

“Excuse me?” she felt like she should feel insulted.

“You have my life in your hands, me, Loki Odison, a Prince of Asgard,” he declared boisterously, “you should at least ask for a king’s ransom to have it returned.”

Sigyn laughed at the absurdity, “And what would I do with a king’s ransom?”

“Buy another dress, for one,” he said glibly as he gestured to her highly improper and disheveled state, “and perhaps buy yourself out of that marriage for another.”

“I like Theoric,” she easily defended, a smirk on her lips, “he’s a brave and noble warrior.”

“Brave and noble indeed,” Loki bantered back easily, adding, “he’s as dull and boorish as the rest of the soldiers of the realm.”

“Why, Loki,” she stifled a laugh, “one might think you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he was quick to assure her.

“You’re not the one marrying him,” Sigyn pointed out, crossing her arms, “so why should you care?”

“Because you’re my friend,” the words came out so fast and harsh that Sigyn’s face went completely blank. She had thought he was just having fun with her, a playful banter to pass the time, but she realized she misunderstood his intent.

Loki sighed and shook his head, “You’re smart, Sigyn, clever, you should be well on your way to becoming an Emissary.”

“Thank you,” she replied shyly, not sure what to do with this side of Loki. Was he that addled from the venom or was this how he was able to trap so many others? Show them what they wanted to see?

“When you marry that oaf,” he flicked his hand in dismissal, “he’ll have you settled down, playing the dutiful wife…” Loki glanced up into her eyes, “it will be a great loss to Asgard.”

Sigyn wanted to ask him if she’d truly be a loss to Asgard, or to him personally. Instead she tore her eyes from his, unable to look at him. “You think too highly of me.”

“I would not think of you at all,” his tone remained dismissive but he reached forward and touched her cheek so that she had to look at him, “if you were not worth considering.”

There was so much soul in Loki’s eyes, even for one as young as him. His whole face was entirely too distracting at times as one could do nothing but trace the subtle dips and curves that framed his infamous charm. Sigyn was not immune to it, there wasn’t a soul that was, but she knew better than to let herself be taken in by it. 

But knowing and doing were always two entirely separate concepts.

Loki leaned forward and for a split moment she considered abandoning every sense she had in her head. 

“I’m sorry, Loki,” she pulled back, moving away from him, “but I’m afraid the venom and strain has gotten to you, addled your brain.”

“Perhaps it has,” he straightened back up, retaining his pride, “I am quite tired.”

“Delirium can be quite common with such injuries,” they went back to their banter, nonverbally agreeing to pretend as if that moment hadn’t happened, or at least not sincerely. “You should get some sleep.”

“And the Skathi?” he asked as he moved slightly to get comfortable.

“I’ll watch over you, Loki,” she grabbed one of the water bowls holding dirty water, not sure yet what she planned on doing with it but she needed to busy her hands, “I promise I’ll protect you.”

“You’ll protect me?” his words should have been lofty but instead they were curious, “I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve such loyalty.”

Sigyn smiled softly at him. “You are my friend, Loki, I will always protect you.”

“Always?” now his smirk was back. “That’s an awful long time.”

“Let us hope.” She frowned at him, glancing around the cave to remind him of their situation. 

“Yes.” His grin fell and he gave her a respectful nod of his head. 

“Sleep well, Prince,” she told him, then walked over to an outcrop of rocks and threw out the dirty water. She took a moment for herself, trying to sort out of her feelings, as jumbled as they were. 

Theoric was her betrothed, she did not love him, it was an arrangement made between two families. He was a nice enough fellow, but yes, he did have a limited sense of humor. He was also very traditional and would expect her to be a typical warrior’s wife, tending to his home, baring his children, and otherwise keeping herself out of trouble.

But Sigyn was the kind of person who didn’t even hesitate when Loki told her he had figured out the Realm-Walking spell. Sigyn loved the idea of being able to travel so easily. Unlike many of her fellow Asgardians, she was fascinated with other worlds, other cultures. 

That’s what got her into this mess in the first place. She was sneaking books in the Royal Library so she could read up on the Nine Realms when the prince caught her. 

Loki made her world confusing. She liked him, he was her friend, but he was also a prince and not to be trusted. She saw how he could easily manipulate situations to his own benefit, use his silver tongue to trick others. Some days she admired it, other days she feared it. 

Sigyn knew she was nothing special to Loki, no matter how he might phrase his words. She was just another in his line of conquests and challenges. He would speak the words he thought she needed to hear. She knew his tricks and did her best to guard herself against them and remain simply his friend.

“Sigyn.” Loki’s eyes were droopy when she returned, his breathing slowing as he was falling asleep.

“Yes, Loki?” She busied herself with the clean rags, thinking she should rewrap his arm when he awoke next.

“It’s not fair.” He blinked rapidly to wake himself.

“Many things aren’t.” Sigyn frowned at him.

“Truth,” he nodded at her, “but I think you would agree that you having my life in your hands is rather one-sided.”

Sigyn stifled a laugh, “I assure you, your life is safe, I will not harm it.”

“And what assurances are mere words?” he dismissed her again. “I am a Prince, if you won’t ransom my life then I demand collateral.”

“Collateral?” She raised a brow at him.

“Yes,” he looked at her seriously, “if I have something just as valuable of yours, then I know you will keep my life safe.”

Sigyn frowned, narrowing her eyes at him. “And just what would this something be? My life?”

“Oh, Valhalla no,” he shook his head, “your life is not worth nearly as much as a Prince’s.”

“Well, thank you for that,” she was not at all thankful and frowned.

“Do not blame me, my dear Sigyn,” he gave her a mocking pout, “I do not set these things, it is fact left to the mercy of the Royal Court, I assure you.”

“So many assurances,” she rolled her eyes, “perhaps I should just give you back your life and be done with it?”

“After you went through so much to win it?” he tsked at her. “No, my life is yours, you have taken it fairly and honorably in battle.”

“I think you are in much need of sleep, Loki.” Sigyn couldn’t decide if she should smile or frown, so she did both.

“I am, yes,” nothing in his demeanor seemed to argue with her, “but there is still the matter of collateral.”

“You just said I won your life.” Sigyn crossed her arms, wondering if he would fall asleep during their discussion and if it would tacky of her to hold it over him later.

“You may have taken it,” the droop came back to his eyes, “but I still have no assurances you’ll treat it well.”

“Oh, by Valhalla,” she threw her hands wide in surrender, “then what is it you ask?” and before he could make any snark or innuendo, “I will consider your request.”

“Well then,” Loki did look awfully tired, but his eyes were still sharp under his heavy lids, “something just as valuable as my life.”

“You are a prince,” she started to feel tired too, but she knew she had to watch over him, “and I am simply an Air General’s daughter. I do not even have a place in the Royal Court. I doubt I have anything of enough value.”

“You are a woman of worth, my dear Sigyn,” his words were low and husky due to his drowsy state. 

“You’re sleep addled, Loki,” she cleared her throat, “now close your eyes and rest.”

“Rest, yes.” He closed his eyes as commanded, leaning back against the stalagmite. 

Sigyn watched him as his breathing started to slow. His skin was still a bit ashen, sunken in at his cheek bones, but there was still some youth to be seen in the gentleness around his eyes. 

“Your heart,” he said suddenly without opening his eyes and it startled her enough that she sat back on her haunches.

“What?” she tried to regain her composure.

“Your heart,” he continued to speak, perhaps in his sleep, “I will take it as collateral.”

“Oh,” she frowned, not completely understanding and wondering if she should try to wake him up if he was indeed asleep, “literally or metaphorically?”

“Metaphorically of course,” well, if he was completely asleep then he was still rather keen, “if I were to literally take your heart it would cause such a mess.”

“I suppose it would,” Sigyn replied softly, trying to make sense of his words which could be nothing but the product of the fevers the venom had induced earlier. 

“Then it’s settled,” Loki was nearly cheerful despite the tiredness that wrapped around his voice, his head slightly lulled to the side, eyes closed, “you have my life, and I have your heart.”

Sigyn frowned at him, his words having a strange effect on her that she pushed down as far as she could. Yes, she was a betrothed woman who would not risk her family’s honor over a flight of fantasy with a prince… but he was right. “You have my heart, Loki.”


	5. Time

Time

Eventually Loki awoke, thirsty with a grumbling stomach. Sigyn fetched him some water from the pool. 

“I’m going to clean your wound.” She took his arm and unwrapped the cloth. 

“It feels much better,” he commented, “not as numb as it had been before.”

“It looks like it’s healing,” she examined the tissue that had scabbed over, the skin starting to knit back together. “How about the leg?”

Loki started to twist his foot, getting better range of movement. “The pain is considerably less now, perhaps soon we can start looking for a way out.”

“I think that way is a good option,” Sigyn gestured to where she had another ball of light hanging off to the side, illuminating a small pathway through the cave, “I did a little exploring while you were asleep.”

“You left me again?” He frowned at her.

“I told you nothing would happen to you,” she would not accept any anger from him on this, “I promised I’d protect you, I keep my promises.”

He seethed for a moment, then the emotion broke and he gave her an apologetic smile. “I fear the fatigue is starting to get to me.”

“You’ve been through a lot.” Sigyn knew he wasn’t always the most calm and collected of individuals, he had his mother’s keenness but his father’s temper. 

“What have you found?” he said by way of changing the topic.

“That way dead ends,” she pointed to another area of shadows which lead to a side cavern like the one they had originally fell into, then pointed back to the previously mentioned area, “but I could not see an end to that cavern for as far as I dared go.”

“Shall we explore?” he asked her.

“Can you walk?” she answered in all seriousness, “I saw no other water sources, it wouldn’t be prudent to abandon it.”

“Yes,” he furrowed his brow and leaned forward, gripping his leg, wincing slightly. “I say give it just a little more time and I’ll be able to walk, but don’t ask me to run just yet.”

“Alright, sounds like a good plan.” Sigyn then went about putting a fresh wrap on his arm. She had debated if perhaps leaving it exposed to the air would be better, but it was still an open wound and she wanted to make sure it didn’t get infected. His immune system was already shattered as it was.

“So,” Loki clapped his hands once she was done, “what shall we do to pass the time?”

Sigyn shrugged, “I don’t know, I suppose I could build a halatafl board from the rocks.”

“Ugh, no,” he shook his head, “I despise the game.”

“Why so?” She frowned at his sudden distaste.

“It takes no true skill to win,” he waved her off, “now, hnefatafl, that takes wits and forethought.”

“I don’t think I could build a hnefatafl board.” She looked around at her options, mostly flakes and large rocks.

“Perhaps not,” he agreed after he glanced around, “oh well, I’d win every game and that would be incredibly boring for the both of us.”

Sigyn tilted her head and gave him a very disapproving look. “Do you think your skills that grand, or mine that poor?”

He realized his mistake and nodded to her. “I have yet to lose a match, that is all I meant.”

“Then perhaps you simply lack a proper challenge?” she countered with a smirk.

Loki let out a bark of laughter. “Tis true, I love my brother but he hasn’t the patience for strategy.”

Sigyn hadn’t meant anyone in specific, but now that Loki mentioned the older prince, she admitted, “I’ve only met him a few times,” she had spent many hours with Loki over the past several years in her pursuit of magic but she realized she knew near nothing of the rest of his family beyond what was public, “he’s not an unintelligent fellow, he just seems to be less interested in planning and more apt to run head first into situations.”

“He doesn’t think things through, yes,” Loki nodded, smirking, “though that is how most warriors are. I suppose Theoric is no different?”

“Once again you speak of my betrothed,” Sigyn frowned at him, then a smile played on her lips, “one would think that if you were not jealous of him… that perhaps you fancy him for yourself?”

Loki stared at her with the driest expression on his face. “I would make a horrible wife, for one, I’d look terrible in a dress.”

Sigyn let out a rather loud bark of laughter.

“You make fun,” he pouted at her but again there was mischievousness in the creases of his eyes.

“I am imagining you in a dress,” she was grinning so widely her cheeks hurt, “I would think you rather fetching.”

“Oh dear,” he frowned at her while his eyes grinned, “I fear perhaps you have been drinking too much of the mineral water, you’ve gone delusional.”

“Perhaps I have,” Sigyn tried to tapper her mirth, it felt good to laugh and otherwise have a few moments of not having to deal with the reality of the situation. “I think I would still like to see you in a dress, you could be one of my lady’s in waiting at my wedding.”

“Hah!” now he laughed haughtily, “Would that not be dangerous then if you believe me so fetching? I could steal your betrothed away!”

Sigyn let out a melodramatic gasp, “Oh, you might be right!”

“Hah, this is a silly conversation,” Loki was chuckling still.

“You have no one but yourself to blame,” she patted his good leg and stood, stretching her body and enjoying the feeling of her muscles being extended. She glanced down at him, realizing he’d been sitting in that same spot for some time now. “I think you should stand and stretch, it would do you no good if atrophy set in.”

“A good idea,” he agreed, again trying to stand under his own power. He was able to scoot a little up the stalagmite but he had issue once he realized he could not really bend his hurt leg. He would get there eventually but it would be slow, cautious work for him.

“Here,” she placed herself under his arm and pulled him the rest of the way, “do you want to test your leg?”

Loki put his weight on the limb and immediately hissed, “Yes, a little bit longer.”

“Alright then,” she moved in front of him, her hands firmly on his waist, “lift your arms, get the blood flowing.”

The prince was a giant of a man, a bit above average for Asgardians but then he was of royal blood. Sigyn was about average for female Asgardians, her shoes having just enough heel to place her eyes at his neck. His arms went high into the air and she found herself starring at said appendage, now long and taunt as he balanced himself on one foot. 

“That does feel much better,” he said between reasonable groans and Sigyn decided that this was actually a horrible idea. The thought flitted across her mind that Loki may not have needed her help to stand but played up his weakness to put her exactly in this position. 

She was going to have to learn to never to put anything past the man.

“Good,” she cleared her throat and tried to think of things other than his collarbone that was just barely visible, peaking out from his torn tunic, “you know, Fandral wants me to pilot his open air flyer this year in the Solstice Festival races.”

“Oh?” he bent one arm over his head to touch his opposite shoulder. “I didn’t know you piloted flyers.”

“My father is an Air General in the fleet,” she frowned at him, thinking it would be obvious that she had spent much of her childhood around ships, “and my brothers are all in the fleet as well, even my cousin does better in the air than on the ground.”

“This is true,” Loki chuckled which did nothing to ease her view, “Fandral tries, he truly does, the poor soul.”

“Yes,” she had heard many of the tales of the Warriors Three, and while Fandral was quite deft with his rapier, he was meant for the sky. The man had a balance and grace matched by no other, when he was not on the solid, unmoving ground, “and he believes we would make a fair team, with him on the sails and me on the rudder.”

“I reserve judgment until I have seen you perform,” he finished stretching and looked down at her, “but I have little doubt you’ll be good at it.”

“Really?” She eyed him carefully. While she was cousins with Fandral who was friends with Loki, she had hardly interacted with both at the same time. She even wondered if being related to Fandral was why Loki had shown leniency for her thefts all those years ago. Only later did she discover that Loki had had no idea she shared a grandfather with Fandral.

“It seems when you put your mind to something, it gets done,” he smiled at her, his hands gently going to her waist, “I’m still alive, that is proof enough itself.”

Sigyn cleared her throat and moved her hips slightly away from him, “Know your place, Loki.”

“Nothing meant,” he removed his hands with no argument, “I was steading myself.”

“Of course you were,” she gave him a dour look that told her exactly what she thought of that.

Loki head raised up quickly, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” she questioned, dubious to his subject change.

“That.” He looked towards the possible exit. 

Sigyn closed her eyes and listened carefully, after only a moment she could hear it too, clinking of boots and armor. “Soldiers.”

“Told you mother would find us,” he grinned, moving slightly away from her, “we need to catch their attention.”

“More light,” she agreed, using her off hand to create a larger, brighter ball of light and sending it into the cavern. “Should I go and meet them?”

“Not yet,” he shuffled farther away from her grasp, wincing as he tested out his leg, “the serpents may be agitated and they seem to respect you.”

“Or maybe they just don’t like you,” she smirked at him, “are you still fearful of them?”

“No,” he quickly covered himself, “I think I should be more fearful of the one they fear.”

“Perhaps you should,” she replied dryly, starting to hear voices along with the footsteps, the men were getting closer.

“Loki!” they could hear a loud voice echoing off the hall. “Brother!”

“It’s Thor,” at the realization, she could see the man’s demeanor change. Loki drew himself a little taller and straightened out his coat.

Sigyn frowned at him, later she would blame her tiredness for her boldness. “You know you have nothing to prove?”

“Excuse me?” he replied hotly at the accusation.

“No one thinks less of you, Loki,” she tried to explain in neutral terms, “just because you’re the younger brother.”

“And what would you know of anything?” he bit back and she was reminded of one of Loki’s less desirable traits. For a man with so much confidence, he seemed to be lacking in being able to apply it to his personal life.

“I know that you are your brother’s equal,” Sigyn would not allow his rudeness to stand unchallenged, “even if you do not.”

The prince twitched slightly, but whatever he was going to say was cut off, this time by a female voice shouting Loki’s name. It was the Lady Sif and she seemed to be much closer than Thor.

“Over here!” Sigyn shouted back. “We’re in here!”

“Sigyn!” Sif returned her call, then she could hear the woman shouting orders and even louder shuffling of boots. “This way, I’ve found them.”

Within moments, Sif and a cadre of Asgardian soldiers came into the cavern. 

“By Valhalla,” the female warrior let out a sigh of relief when she saw them, “we were afraid we had lost you both.”

“Nearly,” Sigyn threw a look at Loki, “this one is entirely too stubborn to die.”

“And who is the stubborn one here?” he asked her with a smirk, referring to either her unwillingness to let him die from the Skathi venom or her continued rebuffment of his advances. 

“Definitely you,” she assured him with a none too happy expression. 

“You’re hurt.” Sif had finally reached them proper and noticed the wraps on his arm and leg.

“It’s nothing,” he waved the woman off and Sigyn frowned, wondering if she should bring up that he nearly died thanks to ‘nothing’.

“Loki!” More soldiers started to enter the cave, Thor at the lead, nearly jogging the distance.

“Brother,” Loki was not nearly as enthusiastic, trying to maintain that calm exterior. 

“We thought we lost you,” the bulkier man wrapped his brother into a massive hug, “mother could only lead us to this part of the world, we did not know if you survived the fall through the realms.”

“I think I should be insulted,” Loki replied, hiding his winces from the pain behind his sarcasm, “that you would give up on me so easily.”

“Aye,” the older brother affectionately ruffled Loki’s already messy hair, “we should know better.”

It was Fandral and his group of searchers that came through next, the cavern was getting extremely crowded and Sigyn largely forgotten it seemed. Not that she minded, Loki was Thor’s brother and she hardly knew Lady Sif herself. But Fandral was her cousin and he greeted her with a relieved smile.

“Sigyn!” he gave her a hug much more subdued than Thor had given Loki. “So glad to see you survived whatever mess Loki got you into.”

“It was not intentional,” Loki defended himself drolly, “I assure you.”

It was that moment that Thor noticed the brace on Loki’s leg, “Brother, you’re hurt.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” again there was that air about the man that caused Sigyn to frown, “nothing that I couldn’t deal with.”

“That’s Sigyn’s corset,” Sif pointed out, raising a single brow.

“The good lady was very accommodating in helping us through this ordeal,” Loki smoothly covered, “she showed an amazing amount of courage.”

Sigyn stared blankly at her friend, she understood the reasons for his words though she did not really agree with them. He was bolstering for an audience, he dare not show his weakness or his fear, even if that meant denying the events. She could have put him in his place, but he was a prince, and she supposed he had his own role to play. 

Who was she to embarrass him when he at least did not deny her valor completely?

“You have my gratitude, lady,” Thor braced his arm over his chest and bowed his head.

“Gratitude is not required,” she returned the bow, deciding that Loki did have an image to maintain, even if it wasn’t completely by choice, “I did as any would do in my situation,” she looked pointedly at Loki to prove her point, “for anyone,” the only dig she would allow herself.

“SIGYN!” another familiar voice called out and she looked past her cousin to see a man jogging into the cavern with his own group of men.

“Theoric,” she smiled brightly for though she did not love the man it did fill her heart to know that he had been searching for her with the same fervor as Thor had Loki.

“I thought I lost you.” The man enveloped her and she was nearly swallowed by his bulk.

“I am a stubborn woman, Theoric,” she smiled at him, “best get used to it.”

The joke went a bit over his head and he simply smiled and held her, “Stubborn indeed.”

“We should get you both to the healers,” Sif was the one to be reasonable, “it’s a bit of a walk, Loki, are you to make it?”

“I’ll be fine,” he moved forward and surely Sigyn wasn’t the only one who could see him hiding his winces of pain, trying to be strong.

“Are you hurt, Sigyn?” Theoric asked her, pulling back to look at her form and grimacing once he realized her state of dress.

“I sprained my hand,” she had almost forgotten about that, “but it has since healed.”

“I would hope so,” Theoric held her hand up, “you’ve been missing six days.”

“Six days?” both her and Loki said the words.

“Has it really been that long?” Loki continued the thought as Sigyn started to feel queasy.

“It has indeed, brother.” Thor put his arm around Loki to help him walk but the younger man shrugged him off.

It was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly Sigyn felt a cold numbness in her body which became heavy. She hadn’t even realized she had collapsed, Theoric scooping her up, holding her across his arms.

“Sigyn,” her betrothed’s voice seemed so far away, “what’s wrong?”

“She’s tired,” Loki told him, an unusual kindness in his voice towards the man, “I don’t believe she’s slept since we got here.”

Knowing she was safe in Theoric’s arms and that her work was done, Sigyn let the darkness take her, falling fast asleep. Loki may not be willing to show weakness, but Sigyn understood that sometimes being able to accept help was a truer sign of strength.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no real basis for me making Sigyn and Fandral cousins other than the fact that Marvel loves to make random connections like that, only to retcon them later (looking at you Maximoff's). This also fits with my personal headcanon that Fandral really is much better on skiffs and flying than he is on the ground, that's why he's always getting pwned even though he pulls off those wicked moves in Dark World. There will actually be some call backs (call forwards?) to that scene in TDW later in this story.


	6. The Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)

The Dress

When the group had returned home, again, Sigyn was largely forgotten as Loki and Thor were greeted by their mother and the younger prince was rushed off to the healers. At least this is what Sigyn was told as she had slept solidly for nearly a day, drifting in and out of consciousness.

She awoke refreshed, her body quickly recovering from the fatigue and lack of nourishment. Her father and brothers had visited her, glad to see she was alright, although her father was quite annoyed that she found herself in the position in the first place. She really shouldn’t have been hanging out with the other magic users when she had duties to attend to. 

To her surprise, it was Theoric who had remained by her side as she recovered, as bittersweet as that was.

Theoric was a good man, but as much as she did not love him, he did not love her. Both of them knew their place and had come to a silent agreement to make the best of their situation. There may never be love between them but there was caring and respect. 

They would be happy together, and that would be enough. 

“How are you feeling?” one of the healers asked her after she had ran a few tests.

“Like I could use a very hot bath,” Sigyn replied honestly.

“That can be arranged,” the healer gestured to her assistant who hurried off, then she continued, “you don’t seem to have suffered any ill effects from your time in the cave.”

“That’s a relief.” Theoric was hovering slightly.

“There is this,” the healer lifted up Sigyn’s hand to show her where the Skathi venom had splashed on her hand and left a mark, “but we can easily take care of that.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sigyn examined the wound she had forgotten about, the once angry looking skin now crinkled and almost melted looking, “it is a battle scar, is it not? A badge of honor.”

“A lady such as yourself should not have battle scars.” The healer frowned at her.

“She is not your typical lady,” Theoric said with just a measure of pride in his voice.

“Very well then,” the healer sighed and the other assistant returned to the room stating that the bath was ready.

Sigyn was led to a small side chamber with a large stone bath of hot spring water and muscle soothing minerals. She soaked for a very long time, running the events of the past few days through her head. From agreeing to help test out a dangerous spell, to keeping a prince alive, to protecting his reputation, one might think Sigyn had had enough excitement, but she knew that wasn’t the case. 

She was simply not built to be the dutiful wife.

As she got out of the bath and slipped on the provided robe, she decided she would indeed take her cousin up on his request to be his pilot. Even if they came in last, she would at least have fun and relish the feeling of flying she so enjoyed. 

And Loki believed in her, which made her more emboldened, but also furious at the same time.

Returning to her room in the infirmary, she expected to find Theoric waiting, but instead she found a dress laid across her bed. It was made of some of the most beautiful fabric she had ever seen, blues and golds that shimmered in the light. 

“Loki said he owed you a new dress,” a somewhat unfamiliar voice carried through the room and Sigyn quickly turned her head to see the Queen herself sitting off to the side in a chair, laying a book down on a nearby table. How long had she been waiting there… for her?

“Your highness,” Sigyn bowed her head and curtsied. She may have been lax in her manners towards Loki and his brother, but she would not be so imprudent in front of the All-Mother.

“No need to be so formal,” her voice was soft and warm, it was easy to see where Loki gained his charm, “you saved my son’s life, it is I who should bow to you.”

“Your words are kind,” she kept her head bowed as proper, “but I merely assisted the prince.”

“Come now, young Sigyn,” Frigga let out a small knowing laugh, “we both know that the story my son spun, and the truth, are two wholly different things.”

“I would not speak ill of Loki,” Sigyn kept her voice firm, “he was truly brave and it was his own strength that kept him from succumbing to the Skathi venom. I merely provided aid.”

The Queen laughed at her again, “I’m unsure if you are entirely too humble, or much too shrewd.”

“Can one not be both?” she replied without thinking, regretting speaking so carelessly to the All-Mother.

There was quiet, but Sigyn could hear the woman stand, her own dress swishing as she moved across the room.

“I see why my son likes you,” there was a genuine warmth in her voice, the Queen reaching out and touching Sigyn’s chin so she would have to look at her, “I hope you have not fallen prey to his charms?”

Of course she had, his eyes were so raw and full of unimaginable wonder it was hard not to want to drown inside them, but in truth, “I am a betrothed woman, my Queen, I would never bring dishonor to any of our families.”

Frigga judged her for a moment, that same shrewdness she had often seen from Loki, but then she smiled, satisfied that Sigyn was speaking the truth. 

“There is to be a feast, tonight,” the older woman released her and turned towards the garment laying on the bed, “I hope you like the dress, I picked it out myself from our finest couturiers.”

“It is truly the finest I shall ever have the honor to wear,” she examined it more closely and the blue shimmering silk was like water in her hands.

“Would you like a thousand more?” the Queen asked casually.

Sigyn let out an awkward laugh, “What would I do with a thousand dresses?” and then frowned, “Where would I keep them?”

“In a very large closet I would surmise,” the woman laughed slightly. 

“A closet of that size,” she momentarily forgot who she was speaking to, “I could think of better uses for so much space.”

“A practical girl, I see,” Frigga smiled at her, “so what is it that you ask?”

“Ask for what?” she frowned at the Queen.

“You saved my son’s life,” the woman gave her a curious look, “surely you expect some reward for your bravery?”

Sigyn was quiet, this was the same conversation she had with Loki, only she knew the Queen was less interested in innuendo and more concerned with the reality of the situation. To be owed a debt by the King and Queen themselves, what a boon it would be. 

“The dress is more than enough reward,” Sigyn replied humbly, she would not be inconvenienced by the truth, simply accept it, “I would have done the same regardless if Loki was a prince or a pauper.”

“The dress is from Loki,” the Queen once again gained that shrew tilt to her lips, “he simply asked me to pick it out.”

“Oh,” Sigyn frowned, once again looking at the dress and remembering her conversation with the trickster prince, “well, again, I do not require a reward, but I thank you for your consideration.”

Frigga pursed her lips, “Again, humble or shrewd, I believe you are both.”

“I could ask for riches,” Sigyn explained with a sigh, “but what would I do with them? I have all that I need, excess simply leads to lethargy,” a thought did come to her mind, “but if I were to ask for anything it would be not for myself.”

“And what would this be?” the Queen betrayed no emotion.

Sigyn took a deep breath before explaining, “I am apprenticed to an emissary, Master Gry.”

“I am aware,” Frigga nodded.

“He is good with statistics and numbers, milady,” Sigyn grimaced, “but not so much with people.” 

“Of this, I am also aware,” the Queen frowned slightly. 

It was no secret that Gry was a serviceable emissary. He was often asked to consult and work on tasks with other emissaries who acknowledged his incredible skill in seeing the patterns and cause analysis of situations. He was rarely ever sent on a task by himself unless it was situations where the task did not require true negotiations. 

Sigyn was apprenticed to him mostly as a way to keep her occupied before her wedding. She did learn from him, she never could look at politics the same way again after Gry had shown her the true organic nature of the beast. But if one wanted to move up and become an emissary themselves, they would have to find better than Master Gry.

“He has some interesting thoughts on the current trade situation with the Shi’ar,” Sigyn respected the man, even if few others did, “but he is largely ignored by the trade council. I only ask that he be heard and his words given proper consideration.”

“That could be dangerous,” Frigga had a thoughtful crease to her brow, “he could be humiliated and his standing further diminished.”

“I understand,” Sigyn nodded, “but I have faith that once the trade council actually listens to what he has to say, they will see the truth in his words.”

“You have faith?” there was a slight curl to her lips.

“One must always have faith,” Sigyn replied with surety.

“Yes,” Frigga said softly, “I suppose one does.”

Sigyn had no idea how to respond to that, plus she remembered that this woman was not only the mother of her friend, but also the Queen of the Realm. She felt as if she had no right to be in the woman’s presence, let along speaking so casually to her. 

“Very well,” Frigga put her hands together, “I will ensure that Emissary Gry is given his chance to speak before the council and they give his words all the proper considerations.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Sigyn nodded and curtsied.

“You’re a peculiar woman, Sigyn,” the Queen smiled at her, her words not cruel, “I wish I had given you more consideration when I was made aware of your presence in my son’s life.”

Sigyn frowned, “Milady?” 

“Do you not believe I know of all those my son calls friends?” Frigga questioned her with a raised brow. “Or about his little cadre that gather in the Library?”

“Of course you would,” Sigyn chastised herself.

“I thought you another of those doe-eyed girls, drawn by his charm or his status,” there was a mixture of annoyance and pride in her voice, “but that is not you at all.”

“I try not to be,” Sigyn admitted, knowing that she was definitely taken in by his charm but strong enough to not let it rule her decisions.

“Good,” then there was a touch of sadness in the woman’s eyes, “because you are a betrothed woman, and he will do nothing but break your heart.”

“I am acutely aware of both these points,” Sigyn assured the woman, “but he is my friend, and that is important to me.”

“He could use more friends, real friends,” the woman gave her a soft smile, then turned her eyes back to the dress, “you will be given a place of honor at the feast, though I am sure my sons will take much of the attention.”

“I imagine they would,” she grimaced, not at the princes, but at the fact she might have so much attention placed on her. Sigyn much preferred to stay obscure, no one expected anything of her and she could get away with so much more. How else was she able to sneak so many books from the Library before being caught by Loki.

“I will leave you to get ready then,” Frigga smiled and started to turn before stopping, “oh, there was something I meant to ask you.”

“Yes, my Queen?” Sigyn asked attentively.

“The Skathi,” the woman frowned, “do you know why they attacked my son and not you?”

“I surely do not know, milady,” she admitted, slumping her shoulders lightly, “I put much thought into it and can only guess that perhaps they could have been a sub-species, or were agitated by the blood? It’s possible that cavern was sacred to them?”

“Or maybe my son’s reputation preceded him,” the woman smirked but Sigyn could sense a little relief in her voice, “I suppose we shall never know.”

“He survived,” Sigyn agreed, “that is what matters.”

“Yes, indeed.”


	7. The Feast

The Feast

Sigyn had never had so many eyes on her before, it was disconcerting, but she held herself up with poise. If she could face down Skathi, then she could face a crowd who would likely forget her the next day. 

With Theoric on her arm, Sigyn made her way to the main table in the feast hall where the Royal family and their close friends were also taking their seats. Loki and Thor were sitting next to their father, then there was the Warriors Three and Sif. Sigyn was directed to the other side of the table, taking a seat apparently reserved for her next to the Queen. 

Her father and four brothers were sat at a table close to the front. They wore their military finery as did the rest of the royal court. It was the first time her and her siblings had ever been to such a feast. Those in the fleet were not given as much respect as the ground warriors who were considered braver and more skilled. Sigyn thought that idea was rubbish, but as Loki said, neither of them had control over the whims of the court.

“My friends,” Odin’s booming voice easily silenced the room, “Asgard has always been in pursuit of greater knowledge and understanding,” he spoke easily to the crowd, “but sometimes it can come at a cost,” there was a slight mummer in the room, “and today we celebrate that my own son’s pursuit of knowledge did not rob this Realm of their prince.”

By now everyone had heard the story of how Loki was trying to open portals between worlds without the need of a Bifrost. Several of his ‘friends’ had been there when Loki declared he had figured it out, but it was only Sigyn who had the bravery to test the spell. At least there was witnesses to the event and she did not have to explain how she came to be alone with the prince in a cave in another realm. Such a thing would be unseemly, especially as a betrothed woman.

The feast was marvelous of course, the court never skimped and everyone was pleased that the prince had survived the ordeal which was being likened to its own kind of battle. 

Loki was a performer, it was his nature, and he had the whole court enwrapped in his tale. He exaggerated, or course, when it suited the narrative. He even took the credit for some of the brighter ideas they had, but Sigyn did not correct him. He had a reputation to uphold, he could not show weakness, and for that she felt a touch of sorrow for him.

“And Sigyn,” suddenly she heard her name from Loki’s lips, “ah Sigyn,” he laughed, “Theoric, I owe you a copious amount of mead my good man,” he placed his hand across his chest but he was grinning, “your betrothed removed her corset for me, but I promise you, it was for medical purposes only.”

The crowd laughed and Sigyn tried desperately not to blush and was unsure of her success. Theoric simply raised his mug to the man with one hand while the other snaked around her shoulders slightly possessively. 

The gathered court continued to laugh and Sigyn decided she should stick up for herself, even if it wasn’t necessarily polite to do so, “It was either my modesty or listen to you whimper like a wounded bilgsnipe, Loki, my ears were nearly ready to bleed.”

There was a collective mix of laughter and ‘oohh’s’ from everyone, Thor bellowing out a chuckle.

Loki seemingly expected her not to take the comment lightly and easily replied, “It was a very dignified whimper, I assure you.”

The crowd laughed again and he easily lulled them with his charm. He continued the story of his own heroism as the Skathi seemingly attacked without reason. Of course he fought them bravely, the number of those killed higher than she remembered, but not outrageous or unreasonable. 

“Theoric, you are going to have your hands full with that one,” Loki once again directed himself towards her betrothed and not her. Was this part of the way of the court which was definitely a patriarchy, or was he simply trying to dig at the man she would marry? “I watched her crush a Skathi with her bare hands without even the slightest hesitation. And that’s after bashing at least two others into the ground.”

“I’d be careful, Fandral,” Thor leaned forward and called to the man, “you may find yourself replaced with your cousin.”

Everyone laughed, even Fandral who raised his glass, “I doubt even she could put up with Volstagg after he’s eaten camp rations.”

There was an even louder boisterous ruckus of laughter which diverted attention away from Sigyn. 

“Did you really crush a Skathi?” Theoric asked her quietly as Loki was quipping he’d rather go back to the cave than deal with a gestationally challenged Volstagg.

“Yes,” she told him simply and his brows went up slightly. “What?”

“I would never have thought you capable,” Theoric admitted, but his words were less patronizing and more confused.

Sigyn had no idea how to answer that statement without getting into something right there at the feast. Not wanting to cause a disturbance of the non-celebratory kind, she simply shrugged and turned back to the Warrior’s Three who had finally settled down enough for Loki to continue his story.

Of course, in his version, he was the one who cut open his own arm to get to the poison. His eyes flitted to her either as an apology or to ensure she would not contradict him. Sigyn said nothing, and the more she decided to do so, the heavier her heart felt. Loki himself did not deny her strength and bravery, but he would not speak it to others if he could use it to make himself look better. It was all for the sake of not looking weak in front of his family.

Yes, Sigyn was glad she resisted the man’s charms, he was entirely too much trouble… no matter how handsome and fascinating he was.

“Sigyn had to actually drive the poison out,” he at least gave her that credit, “as she was in a better position to do so.”

He continued the tale, cauterizing his own wound before what poison was in his blood took root. There was another slightly crass joke about ripping her petticoat but he kept it a lot more tame this time after having learned his lesson that he could only go so far with her. 

Loki now had the crowd enthralled as he bravely survived the venom which burned through his system, the ever dutiful Sigyn watching over him.

“Honestly,” he glanced over at her, his tone a little more subdued, “I do believe the serpents truly only stopped attacking because of Sigyn.”

“Is that so, brother?” Thor asked as the attention once again turned towards Sigyn.

“Would you should have heard it, Thor,” Loki told him, not taking his eyes off of her, “as fearsomely as I fought with my weapons, Sigyn was just as fearsome with her words. She told, no, she commanded the Skathi to not attack us, and they did so, even with us at our most vulnerable.”

The room got quite with mummers and she realized they expected her to speak, “It is true, I suggested with much force that if they wished to keep their lives, they would not continue in their attempt to take ours.”

“And they slithered off into the shadows,” Loki added with a bit of a restrained flourish, “and never so much as wandered from the safety of their rocky abodes.”

“The Skathi did seem unusually shy once we got to that part of the cave system,” Sif pointed out, “while they aren’t typically aggressive, they are a curious lot.”

“Perhaps my dear cousin is half-serpent,” Fandral suggested cheerfully, calling into the crowd, “what do you say, Uncle?”

Sigyn looked at her father who was a bit dour of a man. He had sat through the feast the most subdued of them all, rarely a spark of emotion passed his features. Even now, all he did was clear his throat and say, “I would not be surprised, having known her mother.”

At the mention of her mother, Sigyn bowed her head as the woman had traveled to Valhalla several years before after battling health conditions that even Asgardian healers could not defeat. She had been the outspoken type which, as much as her father loved her mother, had rankled him from time to time. He was not well pleased to see that his daughter had inherited that trait.

There was a murmur amongst the crowd, but it was Loki who saw fit to comment.

“Sigyn the Serpent,” Loki spoke reverently, “yes, I do believe it fits.”

“To the Serpent,” Thor raised his mug and the hall answered the call, a chorus of the word echoing off the marble.

And that is how Sigyn became the Serpent while Loki had always been the Liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I originally ended the story, but as you can tell, their story is nowhere near finished. I'm also not completely convinced that I got it right, who is the serpent, and who is the liar. Twenty chapters later and I'm still not sure. I hope you enjoy the ride!


	8. Battle Honors

Battle Honors

The following days seemed to see things settle back to normal, there was always another battle or conquest to distract the court. However, Sigyn found that she had gained a new title for now she was being addressed as Sigyn Sturedotter, Apprentice of Gry, Asgard’s Serpent.

Of course, it was only when she was being formally introduced that her full title was used and it wasn’t often that would happen as she was a woman of low stature. Casually she would be referred to as ‘The Serpent’ or just ‘Serpent’. She wasn’t entirely sure what she felt about it. As much as she enjoyed the very idea of it, she was annoyed that she was seemingly a serpent without any fangs. 

Then, true to the Queen’s words, not that Sigyn had doubted the woman, her mentor was given audience with the trade council to hear his comments on the agreement with the Shi’ar. He had a few days to prepare and Sigyn was kept busy helping put together his presentation. It seemed no one except perhaps the trade council leader knew that this was only happening because Sigyn had requested it, and she much preferred it that way.

Everything went well and the council only debated a few of the finer points, all seeing the value in Gry’s work just as she knew they would.

Master Gry then wandered off with a few of the councilor’s to further discuss some of the proposed changes. Sigyn was left to gather his things when a shadow fell over her.

“Hello, Serpent,” he said cheerfully.

“Thank you for that,” she replied dryly, putting the last of the trade map holograms into the carrying case.

“Oh, come, it suits you.” Loki was grinning at her, leaning up against one of the tables.

“You think me venomous and slippery?” She crossed her arms and gave him a dour look, knowing she was playing with fire.

Loki opened his mouth, the corners of his lips tinged in a grin, but then he shook his head, “You’re a betrothed woman, I mustn’t say what comes to mind.”

Sigyn attempted a disgusted sigh, knowing she had baited him, “You’re impossible, Loki.”

“Yet you still call me friend,” he chuckled at her. 

“I suppose someone has to,” she replied mock-sweetly, “I make the sacrifice for Asgard.”

The prince continued to chuckle, then he suddenly stopped and held up his hand. “There was a reason I came by.”

He reached for his belt, removing a small velvet satchel. That is when Sigyn noticed another belt slung across his chest, well, she had noticed it before but now she actually looked at it. A long piece of burnished gold, much like the rest of the trim on his usual uniform, was attached to the leather strap making the belt more decorative than practical. The gold bore the image of a serpent.

“Battle honors?” Sigyn asked, reaching out and touching the piece, admiring its craftsmanship. Its beauty seemed to mock the scar that still marred her hand.

“They are not that unusual.” He was watching her carefully, especially her hand which she withdrew once she realized she was touching him.

“For a glorious battle or remarkable feats,” she cleared her throat and started around the table to distance herself from him, picking up what few items were left to pack, “you merely survived six days in a cave with only angry snakes and a severely annoyed woman as your companions.”

“Perhaps not as glorious as grandfather defeating the Dark Elves, yes,” Loki nodded, a grin playing on his lips as always, “but why would I not want to remember the day my life was taken from me?”

Sigyn let out a tired sigh, “Are you truly going to hold me to that?”

“Yes,” he replied seriously though the upturn of his lips belied his nature, “my life is yours Sigyn, I cannot die until you wish it so.”

“Keep on with your ways, Loki,” she smirked at him, “and that may be sooner than you think.”

“Ah, see, that is why I asked for collateral,” he laughed, then looked her straight in the eyes, “I have your heart, my dear Sigyn,” his words were low and husky, rightly improper, “you best be careful with my life.”

Sigyn breathed deeply, her heart racing in her chest despite Loki’s words of ownership.

“Loki,” she was finally able to say, “I am your friend, that is all I can, or ever will be, you must stop this flirtatious nature of yours.” And she needed to stop encouraging him. It was all too easy to fall into banter with the charming prince. 

She barely saw it, but there was perhaps a touch of anger in Loki’s eyes, his jaw sitting sharply, his hand twitching at his side. “Theoric.”

“Do not place blame on his shoulders, Loki,” she told him firmly, glancing around to make sure they were still alone, “even if I were not betrothed, I would rather serve as your friend for a lifetime than as your mistress until you bore of me.”

“I would never treat you so crassly.” Loki looked rather offended that she would even suggest such a thing.

“Only because you’re my friend,” Sigyn stressed the word, “and that means more to me than anything else you could give me, Loki.” 

He stared at her, his face becoming passive, unreadable. 

“You don’t want me, Loki,” she finally sighed, glad they were having this talk, “not the way you think, and one day you will realize this,” her voice was worn, “I hope though that we can continue to be friends, but I will understand if it is best we part ways.”

“No,” he looked at her sharply, then let out a breath as he calmed himself, “you’re one of the least boring people I know, my dear Sigyn, and if I must share that with Theoric,” he gave a reluctant twitch, “then so be it.”

“I’m not a possession, Loki,” she corrected him again, quickly adding, “but I understand your meaning, and I thank you, for your understanding.”

“He better make you happy,” the prince covered the awkwardness of the situation, “or I will send my father after him, or worse, my mother.”

Sigyn couldn’t help but chuckle, abet sadly, “We will be happy, I promise.”

He gazed at her for a long moment. “I still have your heart, my dear Sigyn.”

“And I have your life, my prince,” she reminded him, trying to ignore his double meanings, “don’t make me seek to end you.”

A smile graced his lips, a genuine smile, not the one he charmed others with, and it was nearly devastating to see. Then his brow shot up and he put forward his hand with the small satchel. “I had something made for you.”

“Loki,” she spoke the word with a sigh.

“As friends, no,” he placed the satchel in her hand, “as fellow battle hardened warriors.”

Frowning, Sigyn carefully undid the string to open the pouch, pouring the contents out into her other hand. It was a light silver chain, nothing too out of the ordinary really, but the pendent that hung off of it was a piece of beauty.

A broken flake of gleipnir, no longer than her thumb, was engraved with the very same serpent motif as Loki’s belt.

“Your battle honors,” he told her, a strangely soft smile on his face.

“It’s beautiful,” of this she could not deny, the craftsman had to have been highly skilled, likely the best in Asgard, Loki would have asked for nothing less. 

“It is made from one of the flakes you chipped off to create our water bowls,” did she hear a touch of timidness in his voice? Surely Sigyn was imagining it.

“It is truly something special, Loki,” she smiled at him, “thank you.”

He smiled in return, but there was still sadness there. 

“You understand why I can’t wear it,” she said regretfully as she placed it back into the satchel. She hated to make him feel this way, but it was Loki, he would soon forget about her and move on. 

“People might get the wrong opinion, yes,” he pressed his lips together, “though when have you ever cared about such things?”

“I pick my battles, Loki,” Sigyn offered him a regretful smile, “but again, thank you, I will keep it as a battle honor, as a remembrance of the time I saved my friend.”

Loki reached up as if to touch her face, then pulled it back to place across his chest as if that was what he had meant to do. “I only ever want you to be happy, Sigyn.”

“Thank you, Loki, and I have people in my life,” she replied softly, “including my friends, who will make sure of this.”

…

Sigyn returned home a little later than usual. She had to put away all her master’s things then prep for a secondary meeting which was already scheduled for two days hence. She still lived in her family home though she did have a small suite to herself. Soon she would have to start packing to move into the home that Theoric would secure for them.

Speaking of, her betrothed was there to great her when she returned. She found him talking to her brother about some troop movements, idle warrior gossip.

“How did it go?” Theoric asked her cheerfully enough.

“Very well,” she placed her things down on the table and greeted her brother, Sven, with a hug, “Master Gry has a busy schedule ahead of him.”

“It won’t get in the way of your wedding, will it?” Sven had been friends with Theoric before their families had decided to merge. It was likely why Theoric was chosen and not one of his brothers.

“I shouldn’t think so,” she spoke fairly surely. Their nuptials were still a ways off as they were only recently betrothed and their families hadn’t completely worked out the deal yet. Part of her wanted to see it fall through, but she would do nothing to force it either way for that would bring dishonor.

“Good,” Sven was pleased at that, “well, I must go, I was waiting on father but it seems he’s been held up, as for our other brothers, Valhalla knows where they have gotten off to.”

Sigyn and Sven where the older siblings, he was also married, another match of convenience for their families. She envied her older brother because for him it did seem that there was a decent measure of love between him and his wife.

“I will tell him of your visit,” she assured Sven and saw him to the door. 

Once he was gone, she turned back to Theoric. He had been a little clingier since she returned from her ordeal. Sigyn was unsure if it was because he was afraid of losing her again or because of her friendship with the prince. She had heard no speak or rumor that insinuated that she had any kind of relationship with Loki beyond platonic, but words did not need to be spoken to be thought. 

Loki was a charmer, this was a well known fact, even if most didn’t realize just how charming and manipulative he could be. 

But Sigyn was faithful, she knew her duty to her family and would not dishonor them.

Theoric should know better than to question her faithfulness.

“What’s this?” He was pointing at the satchel Loki had given to her as it sat among her things.

“A gift from Loki,” she found no reason to hide the truth from him, “a battle honor for our time in the cave.”

“A battle honor?” He raised a brow and let out a questionable laugh. “I never thought my wife would have such a thing.”

“Let us hope it is the one and only I receive.” Sigyn walked up to her betrothed and couldn’t help but judge him against Loki. 

Theoric was handsome enough, if one went for the more classic Asgardian esthetic of broad and muscular, much like Thor. He wasn’t un-intelligent, he was calm and tempered, but his humor was lacking and his own sense of adventure was limited to how many bar fights he could get into in one night. Granted, Sigyn enjoyed a good bar fight as much as the next Asgardian, but she wanted more. 

She knew Theoric couldn’t give her that, but that he would still be a right and honorable husband, and she would be a faithful and dutiful wife. 

She touched his cheek and made him look up at her from his sitting position. “You know I’m marrying you, right?”

“How could I forget?” Theoric smiled up at her. 

Deciding somewhere in herself that she had something to prove, either to Theoric or to herself, Sigyn slipped herself across Theoric’s lap, his large arms instinctively wrapping around her. Then, for the first time since they were betrothed, Sigyn kissed the man she would be calling her husband. It was nice, sweet even, and he showed a fair amount of skill in the act. 

But as faithful as Sigyn would be to her family and her future husband… her heart simply wasn’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I love the idea of Loki wearing his kids baby pictures on his uniform, I don't think the MCU is going to give Loki any kids, let alone Jörmungandr or Fenrir, or else we would have gotten some kind of mention by now. Which makes me wonder how they are going to play Ragnarok...


	9. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)

Acceptance

“Fifth place,” Sigyn frowned as she looked up at the holographic leader board once the final team of open air flyers had passed through the course. They were in the crew pit for their own flyer which they had moored and secured. The flyer wasn’t like the typical transport skiff, it was meant for two people, the pilot at the rudder and a boatswain at the sails. 

The flyers could be used as small transports, they were so fast and nimble that a messenger or the wounded could be quickly transported to and from a battlefield if the Bifrost was in use. But as for racing went, two man teams were standard as an extra person would only add bulk. 

“Brilliant, isn’t it!” Fandral was entirely too happy for such a loss but he saw her confused expression. “This was our first time to run this competition as a team,” he explained, “to get fifth out of, what, three dozen, I call that a very good showing indeed.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” Sigyn had never been in one of the competitions before, in fact, she was the only female among the flyer pilots.

“Fandral!” Thor and the rest of the Warriors came down through the aisle, the prince grabbing his friend in a manly hug. “Great showing!”

“Next festival,” it was easy to see the wheels turning in her cousin’s head, “we’ll win, I know it. This was just a practice run.”

“You road the winds well.” Sif came up and gave her a congratulatory hug. Sigyn hadn’t really known the woman before but as of late they had gotten to spend more time together. Fandral kept Sigyn busy with practice and his friends would hang around. Through this, a friendship had been born between the two women.

Though they never spoke it out loud, both seemed to suffer the same illness of caring far too much for someone they mustn’t. For Sif, her heart belonged to the ever oblivious Thor. And as for Sigyn, her heart was with Loki for much less nobler reasons. 

But mostly they bonded over the fact that they were both women who were attempting to create a role for themselves in a stage that favored men. Sif had already proven herself a more than capable and fearsome warrior. A reputation she had to fight to maintain, moreso than the other Warriors seemed to realize. The Princes and the Warrior’s Three accepted Sif, stood by her, but many of the common soldiers thought the woman foolish and should return to more fitting pursuits.

It was Sif’s strength that gave Sigyn the courage to not back out of being her cousin’s pilot. While the air fleet were considered lesser soldiers, it was still deemed a man’s duty. Sigyn had gotten looks, heard some crude comments, and in that very moment she could see more than one face glaring at her for having come in ahead of them. 

Though they may have given looks, none of them seemed to dare act on their biases. Any who fought with Sif knew of her fierceness, even without Thor backing her up. As for Sigyn, she was still being called ‘Serpent’. No one could be sure how Loki would react should she be threatened as she was the one who saved his life in the Skathi cave.

It galled Sigyn, that she was being seen in this as nothing more than ‘the woman who nursed the Prince when he was hurt’. But soon enough she’d need not worry for she’d disappear into domestic… bliss?

“Sigyn has a light touch for the wind,” Fandral’s eyes were rapidly moving as he was zoned out, seemingly envisioning their open air flyer and the changes he wished to do, “and I the sails… no, I think if we decrease the…” he trailed off, his fingertips at his lips.

Fandral was the engineer of the team, he knew better the internal workings of the flyers, and so she trusted whatever plans he was hatching. As for her role, you could have the fastest flyer but if you couldn’t pilot it through the winds then you’d drag in choppy air. It indeed took a light touch, something Sigyn had learned when she was but a child, climbing over her father’s own ships.

“First, mead,” Thor patted his friend on his back, “we must celebrate till the sun comes up!”

The older prince started to haul his friend off when Theoric showed up, enveloping her in a hug and placing a kiss on her lips. “You did well!”

“Thank you.” She smiled and linked her arm in his, following the group towards the main tent. The best part about being partnered with Fandral was that she would get great seating at the festival feasts as Thor always got the best being that he was, well, Thor.

The winner of the race was presented with their prize and then the feast was served. Sigyn’s father and brothers came by to congratulate her at various points, not that anyone would have noticed due to the ruckus that was several hundred Asgardian’s spread across two large pavilions, eating and downing mead. 

Loki appeared at some point, ingratiating himself at the table as if he had always been there, it was a singular talent of his. 

The prince had seemingly taken her words to heart and she hardly had seen him as of late. Between training with her cousin, her master’s expanded duties, and preparing for her wedding, time had slipped past as swiftly as her flyer. She did keep up with her magic, going by the library on the rare occasion she could. Loki was always pleased to see her but gone was that flirtatious tint to his words. 

“Next solstice,” Fandral slammed down his mug, “we will win.”

“Do you think so, cousin?” Sigyn asked from where she sat on the other side of Sif.

“Yes,” he nodded with semi-drunken surety, “it will take more practice, of course, and some work on our flyer, but we will win.”

“I have no doubt.” Thor was always very supportive of his friends Sigyn had learned in the time she had spent in his company.

It was in that moment Sigyn realized just how much her life had changed in so little time. She had gone from a near nobody to sitting at the same table as Thor and Loki, being called friend to both. All because she was the only one who dared trust Loki. 

Was her life the product of bravery or stupidity?

“Will Sigyn even be able to participate next solstice?” Loki asked conversationally as he tore into what was left of a pheasant. 

“Why wouldn’t she?” Fandral looked over at her and she too was slightly confused until it dawned on her cousin. “Oh yes, you will be married, Sigyn.”

Sigyn turned her head and looked at Theoric once she realized that this was true. Theoric’s own face was a mix of an annoyed grimace and failed-to-hide frown.

“Surely you don’t expect her to spend all her time locked away,” Sif lambasted her friends, “marriage is not a prison sentence.” 

“Here, here,” Volstagg slammed his mug on the table where he sat with his wife, Hildegard. 

“Theoric?” Sigyn said softly, so much so she wasn’t even sure he could hear her.

“Indeed,” Theoric smiled, looking past her, “if Sigyn wishes to continue her pursuits in the air, then who are any of us to argue otherwise?”

“Told you she’s a handful,” Loki mumbled as he bit into a roll, seemingly oblivious that he said such things out loud but at the same time speaking with enough volume to be heard across the table.

Sigyn shot Loki a dour look but he simply smiled innocently at her. 

It was times like these that made her wonder why she continued to be friends with the man. Yes, as of late he had respected her wishes, but he could be so impossible. But this did not stop her from wearing the serpent pendant he gave her. She had it hidden under her heavy coat and dress… she wore it for luck… that is what she told herself.

…

It was very much late, or very much early, that Theoric saw Sigyn back to her suite. There was an uneasy air about him and she offered him tea so she could get a chance to speak to him in private.

“You are bothered, Theoric,” she said as she mixed the water and tea leaves.

“I am,” he admitted plainly, which was good, Sigyn supposed. It was refreshing to speak with someone who wouldn’t try to manipulate every word. 

“Is it because I’m a handful?” Sigyn kept her back to him as she added honey to the drink.

Theoric sighed, “Yes, but do not take that as a detraction.”

“How am I to take it?” She frowned, picking up the mug and carrying it over to the table he was sitting at.

Her betrothed stared up at her with curiously pained eyes. “You are a powerful spirit of a woman. I love that about you…” he trailed off and Sigyn’s heart would have broken had it still belonged to her, “but I have found myself buried in your shadow.”

Sigyn was afraid of this, she wasn’t blind enough to see that Theoric had gained better standing in the military, been seated at the grand tables at feasts, not because of his own hard work. Truly he was a good soldier, a bit above average, but otherwise unremarkable. He was only noticed because of his relationship to her. He was the would-be husband of ‘Asgard’s Serpent’. 

“I am sorry.” Sigyn sat the mug down with a heavier thud than she wanted, sinking into a chair. She wasn’t sure why she was apologizing to him. It was her own strength and will that put in that cave and in the seat of her flyer. 

“Your apologies are not what I need,” he sighed, reaching out and taking her hand. 

“I know nothing else to give.” Certainly she had nothing to give to him, her heart was with Loki, though she supposed in time she would get it back. 

“It’s alright,” he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, “once we are married, things will settle and be as they should.”

“Yes,” she tried to smile for him but it was not a joy she shared. He would expect their first child not long into their marriage, this could possibly cause her to end her partnership with her cousin. She could probably continue with Gry, but again, it was not an Apprenticeship that was meant to go much farther than that.

But this was the path her family had set for her, it would bring them honor, and Sigyn was faithful. 

…

“Several of the regiments are being moved out,” many days later, Theoric was standing in her family’s kitchen, talking to her father and Sven, “mine included.”

“There is word that my regiment will be next,” Sven added, “to provide air support.”

“This skirmish with the Kree is turning into an all-out war,” her father sighed, tapping his fingers on the table.

“It needn’t have to been,” Sigyn mumbled as she fixed them a meal, more of a snack really, of breads, cheeses, and mead.

“And what do you know of war?” her father dismissed her.

“That it’s akin to a child’s tantrum,” she would not let herself cower, “only good men die for it.”

“You would impugn the honor of fallen warriors?” The man was never quick to temper, but she could see a slightly boiling rage.

“A warrior can die with honor,” she sat down the tray in front of him, “but there is no honor for a people who send men to pointless deaths.”

“Sigyn,” Sven said as he put his arm on her shoulder. Her older brother quite used to her blatant disregard for some social norms their father held sacred. He was often the buffer between the two. Sven gave her a look she knew well, telling her that she needed to back off before a real argument broke out.

With restrained rage, Sigyn excused herself from the room and went to her suite. She had found as of late that she had grown less tolerable of the things around her which she believed bordered on uncivilized. Her treatment appalled her, that she was considered less of a person because of her gender. That she was expected to be the dutiful wife, surrendering over her sense of self…

But that is the sacrifice she made to bring honor to her family.

There was a knock on the door and Theoric called out to her, she invited him in.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” he started the conversation, “my regiment is being sent out in just a few days, but it is a short tour. I will be back in time for our wedding.”

“Good,” she hated herself for being disappointed at his words, “I will have everything ready.”

“I am sure you will,” he smiled and touched her cheek. 

Sigyn was overcome with the need to hold him, wrapping her arms around his body and squeezing tight. She was thankful for Theoric, she could have been given to a man of lesser integrity. Even if her fate was written for her, Sigyn was going to make the best of it. 

“We okay?” he asked her quietly. 

She would learn to love this man.

“We’re okay,” she whispered into his ear, boldly adding, “stay with me tonight.”

He pulled back and stared into her with confused eyes, “Sigyn?”

“You’re right, it would be easier for me to sneak out,” she ignored his question, chewing her lip, “once my father and brothers have gone to bed I will come to your place.”

The man was still stunned. “Are… are you sure?”

She ran her hands through his hair. “What is a few days compared to a lifetime we’ll be sharing together?”

He smiled at her with something of awe, then kissed her deeply, passionately even. 

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In keeping with the myths and comics... you know this can't end well...


	10. Honor

Honor

If Sigyn thought she’d have more time once the festival was over while Fandral was working on modifications to their flyer, she was sadly mistaken. Barely could she catch a moment to get to the library and practice her magic. Not that she was really going to have much use for it once she became a soldier’s wife. 

She was contemplating this as she was sorting out Master Gry’s papers. The Emissary had another meeting with the trade councilors, only this meeting was on a completely different subject than from before. After the council had seen how intuitive he had been about the previous matters, they started paying more attention and not ignoring him as they were want to do.

“Ah, there’s the Serpent.” She looked up to see Loki popping his head through the door.

Sigyn frowned at him. “How long till that no longer amuses you?”

“Give it a few thousand years,” he chuckled lightly, moving into the office but leaving the door wide open so that no one could mistake his visit as anything more than friendly. “You haven’t been at the Library as of late, so I’ve come to tell you the news.”

“What news?” She tried to hide her curiosity by finishing up what she was working on. 

“I will be attempting the Realm-Walk spell again.” He clapped his hands together in delight.

“Loki,” she spoke with a fair amount of worry.

“There are no failures, simply opportunities for improvement,” the prince waved her off, “the spell will work as intended.”

“I remember you saying the very same thing last time.” Sigyn crossed her arms, frowning. 

“And you trusted me,” he pointed out with a smile.

“That doesn’t really help your case,” she continued to make a face at him, scrunching up her nose.

“I’ve taken many more precautions,” he assured her, casually waving aside her concerns, leaning up against the bookcase, “but I do think it would be better if you were there with me, as a good luck charm of sorts.”

“When have you ever been superstitious?” She tilted her head and stared blankly at him. “And if I remember correctly, which I’m sure I do, I wouldn’t exactly call me lucky seeing as you nearly died last time.”

“Nearly died,” he grinned at her, “I need the Serpent by my side, to protect me.”

“Now I know you’re a liar, Loki,” she smirked at him, “you would never willingly admit to needing anyone.”

He paused, eventually shrugged, then grinned. “You do have me there.”

Sigyn watched him intently, having to unfortunately admit to herself that she really would like to see if Loki could indeed pull off the Realm-Walk spell. “When would this be?”

“Later this afternoon,” he replied cheerfully, knowing he had won her over.

“I’m sorry,” she grimaced once she realized, “I have a meeting with the dressmaker, final fittings and all.”

“Ah, yes,” he nodded, his lips going into a fine line, “your wedding is only a fortnight away.”

“Theoric’s regiment is due to return a in a few days,” she once again busied herself with sorting the papers which only seemed to get more disorganized, “there is much that needs to be done.”

“I imagine so,” he stood from leaning against the bookcase and started to play with one of the crystal baubles Gry had on the windowsill, “nice of you to invite me but I am afraid I will likely not be able to attend.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed or relieved. Sigyn had debated inviting him and it was only social protocol that won out in the end, he was her friend. 

“Yes, it’s this trade war with the Kree,” he replied with some tint of disgust, “already father has sent Thor and the Warriors Three into the fray. I was only spared because I had to travel to Vanaheim with mother. I am sure I will be asked to support my brother’s efforts soon enough.”

Sigyn had no doubt that Loki would ensure it, just so he could get out of attending her wedding. She had thought he had moved past his amorous feelings for her, as fleeting as she was sure they would be. But she supposed there was no point in placing salt on the wound, this she could understand.

Not willing to speak further on that subject for fear of what it might reveal, Sigyn sighed, “This trade war is foolish and idiotic.”

“It was sanctioned by my father,” Loki frowned at her, but there was that mischievous tilt to his eyes, “you words could be considered treasonous.”

“How can be it be treasonous to wish for peace for my people?” she returned his comments with a little more fervor than she had intended. “The trade council suffers from an unfortunate bought of short sightedness. This is why they would not listen to Master Gry before. Had they, we may have been able to avoid this war, Valhalla knows it could have been worse.”

“You think so?” he seemed to ask with genuine curiosity.

“I know so,” she replied with a deep sigh, “Gry’s suggestion for opening trade of materials in the Midgardian realm meant that when the Kree started to attack the Xandarian trade routes, the Shi’ra sided with us from the beginning meaning we were not forced to fight a battle on two fronts.”

Loki rubbed his smooth chin, his brow creased in thought. “You make a valid case.”

“If we just agreed to open a second trade route in Nidavellir,” she continued, realizing she was venting but could not stop herself, “then we wouldn’t have to fight for control over resources. We wouldn’t even suffer any significant losses in trade revenue.”

The prince leaned against the window frame, watching her with still that curious gait to his eyes. 

“I know I am not the only one who thinks so,” Sigyn was making herself frustrated, “but no one has the stomach to stand up to the council or your father. That, or,” she clinched her fists, nearly breaking the tablet she hadn’t realized she’d picked up, “or they care too much for the glory of honorable battle.”

“Now you do speak treasonous,” he replied lightly with a grin, “for to an Asgardian there is no greater glory than to die an honorable death in battle.”

“What honor is there in dying for no better reason than the stupidity of others?” She shook her head, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

“I’ve said before, my dear Sigyn, you’re a remarkable woman,” Loki’s words were soft and surprisingly genuine, “you were meant for better than this.”

“Your words are kind,” she replied quietly, her throat raw, “but you speak from a place of substance. I am merely an Air General’s daughter, an Apprentice when others my age would be Journeymen.” Sigyn knew her place. “I am a woman of no significance except in the honor I can bring to my family by combining my house with that of a warrior clan.”

“You forget so easily that you are a serpent,” Loki chastised her, “venom runs through your veins, you only need but strike.”

Sigyn glanced up at him, and in that moment she wanted nothing better than to throw off every string that fate had wrapped around her. But she had to be stronger than that and hope that fate was kinder than it was seemingly cruel.

There was heavy booted feet in the hallway and this was odd as there was hardly ever soldiers in the emissary offices, at least not so many at once.

“Sigyn.” Thor came through the open door, followed by the Warriors Three and Sif, all who looked as if they had just returned from battle. Cuts and scrapes were healed but dried blood and mud was smeared across their faces and armor. The older prince paused and glanced over at his brother. “Loki?”

“I came to invite Sigyn to watch my next attempt at Realm-Walking,” he explained easily as he continued to lean casually against the window, “but despite my assurances of a lack of snakes and broken limbs, she seems to have better things to do.”

“What brings you here?” Sigyn ignored Loki and moved around Gry’s desk, feeling that something had to be off. Why were all the warriors there, and in such a state? The implications were all too clear to her and it made her sick to her stomach. “Has something happen to my brother, to Sven?”

Thor frowned at her, one full of regret. “Not your brother, Sigyn.”

If not Sven? “Oh, no,” she felt the blood drain from her body, “Theoric?”

“There was an ambush, milady,” Thor explained and his words seemed like they were a million miles away, “the Kree attacked in great numbers. I’m sorry, but Theoric was felled.”

A thousand emotions assaulted Sigyn, not all of them she was proud of. Feeling weak, she backed into the desk, gripping the edge to hold herself up. Could this really be happening? 

“What do you mean, he was felled?” Loki shouted indigently at his brother. “You were there, Thor, where you not? What are a few Kree to you and the Warriors!”

“It was an ambush with two full battalions,” Thor defended himself as Fandral came forward to comfort her, placing his hand on her shoulder, “it’s a miracle we lost as few as men as we did.”

“Two battalions?” Loki said with shock in his voice. “Why would they send two battalions?”

“A better question is how did they know where we were?” Anger radiated from Thor. “I will not let this stand, if we have a traitor, I want him found.”

“Aye, brother,” the other prince agreed, “I will help you route this out.”

Sigyn heard their words but all she could do was keep herself from falling, her eyes unfocused, staring through the floor. She honestly didn’t know how to feel. Theoric was to be her husband, he was a good man, and she was prepared to spend her life with him. Now he was gone, her fate had been changed. 

She wanted to be devastated. 

She wanted to be relieved.

So all she felt was numb.

“Theoric died protecting over a dozen of his fellow soldiers,” Fandral told her, “he gave his life so others could live.”

“He died an honorable death,” Thor added and she supposed he meant to comfort her. 

All it did was give her focus.

“Do not speak to me of honor,” her head snapped up and she spat at the prince, “you foolish men swinging your pointy sticks. You’re children chasing a shiny toy oblivious to its cost.”

It was clear the older prince was not used to being talked to in such way by someone of such low status, even if she was a friend. If she had been a man he probably would have struck out at her and she almost wished he would. 

The room had gone spectacularly quiet. Sigyn could see past Thor into the hallway where a few of the other Apprentices and Journeymen had gathered in interest. They all stood aghast, some even covering their mouths. 

A glance to the side saw Loki wearing a look of utter shock, his eyebrows shot up and his lips a perfect line. When their eyes met, a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and she could clearly hear the words he had spoken only moments before… there was venom in her veins.

“Sigyn,” Fandral took her hand, trying to sooth her, “cousin, you’re in shock, you’re not yourself, let me take you home to rest.”

“Thank you, Fandral,” tugging away from him, she turned and searched the desk, picking up the trade map tablet she had nearly broken earlier, “but I assure you, I am more myself than I have been in years.”

“Where are you going?” Sif asked as Sigyn brushed past Thor with her head held high.

SIgyn paused in the doorway, her resolve strong, “To speak of honor.”

Even if it meant forfeiting her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our NaNoWriMo group has a tradition where when you kill off a named character you make a little gravestone for them and put it in our popsicle cemetery. You put on it their name and how they died. I made Theoric a gravestone and his cause of death was simply: Loki'd.


	11. The Truth Hurts Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :) Just letting you know, I probably won't update for a few days.

The Truth Hurts Everyone

As prisons went, Sigyn supposed she could have done worse.

After using her magic to disguise herself, sigyn tricked her way onto the main floor of the trade council chamber. When she revealed herself, Sigyn was afraid she’d be thrown out before she had a chance to explain a better solution to the trade war. Amazingly enough, it was Thor who came to her defense, telling everyone of Theoric’s heroic death which Sigyn was only just informed of. 

They would let her speak out of pity, but she would rile them with her fury. 

Even the King was not spared her wrath. When she called him a contented old man who would see his subjects die foolishly she figured she had nothing left to lose. She was ultimately arrested for interrupting the council, insulting them at every turn, and lambasting them for their ignorance.

She was escorted to one of the side chambers, guards at the door. Now it was merely a matter of waiting to hear if her execution would be immediate or if it would be dragged out. At this point, she really didn’t care, her body was numb and her heart was missing leaving nothing but a cold spot.

The door opened and she looked up to see Loki step in swiftly, his long coat billowing behind him. 

“Your presence is requested in the throne room,” he spoke to her nearly clinically, she had no doubt it was for the benefit of the guards and whoever else may be outside, “you are to be given a chance to clear up this unfortunate misunderstanding.”

“Unfortunate misunderstanding?” Sigyn frowned, standing up slowly.

“You were possessed with grief, my dear Sigyn,” he explained, his voice still neutral but his eyes were forceful, “you were not yourself, you of course feel apologetic for your words.”

So that was how it was to be played. Sigyn was to be written off as a woman overcome, her words a flight of anguish. It would do her reputation no good, but she already had nothing left to lose, except her life. Now she could save that at least. 

She wondered how much Loki had to do with getting her this second chance.

“Of course,” she replied numbly, nodding her head.

“Come now,” he gestured towards the door and she gathered herself, she would hold her head high and shoulders straight.

Sigyn followed Loki to the throne room, ignoring the looks of those around her. She was no one, a woman who got a mediocre touch of fame for protecting a prince. Who was she to speak to the council, and the King, in such a manner?

How dare she speak the words they were too coward to say?

Odin was sitting on his throne, his wife standing off to the side with a near unreadable expression on her face. Her own father was there, standing at the foot of throne with a few of the council members. Some of Theoric’s family was also present. 

Now all she had to do was apologize and return to her life of unexceptional pursuits. 

“Sigyn Sturedotter, Apprentice of Gry, Asgard’s Serpent,” Odin’s voice carried weight through the open pillars of the large room and Sigyn was momentarily confused as to why he would use her Serpent title when it wasn’t truly an official title, “you understand why you have been brought here?”

“I do,” she found herself remarkably calm.

“Well then,” the King betrayed no sense of his mood, “do you have something you wish to say?”

“You’ll beg my pardon, my King,” Sigyn kept her head held high, “but I have said all that I wished to say.”

A mummer carried through the room, they expected her to be weak, Sigyn was going to show them she was strong.

“Did you now?” Odin silenced the gathered, his single eye seemingly baring into her soul.

“Yes, my lord.” She gave a slight nod of her head, retaining her proper manners.

“I believe you called me a fool,” he responded drolly.

“No, my lord,” she corrected him politely, “I called you a contented old man who allowed foolish things to occur, calling your kingship foolish was neither explicit nor implied.”

The room went deathly quiet, she wanted to gauge the mood of everyone but she dared not break contact with the King. She imagined her father was furious, an emotion likely echoed by the councilors in the room. Perhaps the only one not fuming would be Loki, he was doubtlessly enjoying himself, at least until his father lobbed off her head.

Odin laughed.

It was a right billowing sound that echoed through the chamber and Sigyn faltered, suddenly unsure of herself.

“Father,” Loki spoke up, “if I may—”

“You may not,” the King silenced his son with a hand gesture, his eyes never leaving Sigyn. He had a curious look on his face, a knowing smile, but something much more interesting was behind it. “My son seeks to protect you as you protected him. He says you are overwrought, the death of your betrothed has made you mad.”

“His concern is appreciative,” she continued to hold gaze with Odin, “but the good prince is not a fit judge for my mental health, and my sanity should not be in question.”

“You speak so boldly, girl, to your King,” Odin nearly smiled, “are you so sure of your sanity?”

“I mean no disrespect, your lordship,” Sigyn held her shoulders a little straighter, “and I understand that my words could be construed as such, but in truth I speak from the heart,” or what she had left of it. “This war does not need to continue, my betrothed did not need to die. I have spoken my peace, insanity would be keeping silent simply for the sake of not upsetting the status quo.”

“Asgardians war,” his features narrowed, “it is what we do.”

“And we are a mighty people,” Sigyn said proudly, though she did not fight the sadness in her eyes, “so why do we allow ourselves to die foolishly?”

“Because, perhaps,” he paused, a touch of a grin on his lips, “we do not have enough Asgardians willing to speak from their hearts. To speak the truth.”

“The truth hurts everyone, my King,” she replied quietly, “it is a heavy burden.”

“Indeed it is,” he replied thoughtfully and leaned back in his seat. “Now, what am I to do with you? You interrupted a council session you had no business being in. You proceeded to insult those of greater stature than yourself. And you stand here and speak to me as if you were an equal.” He let out a thoughtful hum, “What punishment do you think is fitting for your unruliness, young lady.”

Sigyn bowed her head. “I was fully aware that my actions would carry punishment, my King, and I accept that your rule is just.”

“But I’m a contented old man,” he replied haughtily, “do I not let foolish things occur?”

“Yes, my lord,” she would not back down from her stance, “but you are not a foolish king.”

“Neither explicit, nor implied,” he returned her words to her, then let out a long, languid sigh. “Well, it seems that I have but no choice, Sigyn Sturedotter, but to sentence you to a lifetime of continuously annoying the council and speaking from your heart.”

Sigyn’s head popped up, eyes blinking rapidly. “My lord?”

“You will hereby be known as Journeyman Emissary Sigyn, The Serpent of Asgard,” the King’s voice was sure and clear, “and your first task will be to assist the trade council in ending this war.”

Not knowing what to say, Sigyn said nothing, unsure if she actually heard his words correctly. Sigyn should have been a Journeyman Emissary by now had she been allowed a proper path, but she had not taken the trials nor asked for promotion. It was also nearly unheard of for someone of such young age and low stature to have an honorary title. Before she was glibly called Asgard’s Serpent, now it was official, she was the Serpent of Asgard.

But in all this, it was the drop of Sturedotter that was more telling. 

It was typical for a man to lose their surname once they came into their own, only the Princes still carried their surname as a mark of their royalty. For women, they normally only lost the surname when they were married, their title changing to ‘wife of’. But the King himself had stripped the Sturedotter from her, she was no longer beholden to anyone, not even her own family.

The King’s declaration was not meet with cheers, instead most of the room erupted as the councilors were not at all appreciative of the situation. A few did come to her defense, this included Thor and the Warriors, and especially Sif who had a few choice words. Loki and her father remained strangely quiet and she could not read their faces. 

Odin pounded his staff and the room went quiet. 

“Nothing to say, Journeyman Emissary?” there was a near humorous tone to the King’s voice.

“Begging your pardon,” she finally was able to speak, “but I was not prepared for your kindness.”

“You think this a kindness?” he laughed, deep and rich. “You have made no friends here this day, and you will find many painful days ahead of you. If you are not up the task, best speak now and I will find a much swifter punishment.”

“No need, my lord,” Sigyn held her head up high, “as I said, your rule is just.”

“Now be gone,” he gestured broadly, “the council will reconvene tomorrow, I’m sure there will be much to discuss.”

Sigyn bowed, stepping back and removing herself from the center of the dais. The King himself stood, ignoring the council leaders who wished to discuss this matter further, and exited the throne with his wife at his side. 

“Sigyn.” Loki was beside her, his eyes wide as if seeing her for the first time, seemingly at a loss for words. Sigyn couldn’t form any thoughts herself.

“Daughter.” Her father also approached and she turned her attention from the prince. “We should go.”

“Yes, father.” She gave Loki an apologetic nod before following the General out of the throne room. 

At the end of the hall, they were stopped by two of the councilors. “You shame us, Serpent.”

“I would apologize,” she was too numb to consider niceties, “but it was my attention.”

“We are old men who have lost our bite,” he nodded at her, “know that a few of us will have your back, but you are leading this fight.”

“I understand,” she returned the gesture, but she would not thank them until she was sure of where their loyalties lay. Politics was a very dangerous game, one which she was once an avid spectator. Participating in it would test her metal and perhaps the King did not do her a kindness after all. 

If she failed, death may have been a kinder punishment.

The men bowed their heads and moved on, they knew the game better than her at this point. 

Sigyn spent the rest of the trip home in silence, ignored by all they passed for word of what had happened had not travelled to the populace yet. Tomorrow would be much different, she would have to go by Master Gry’s early, explain to him in person that she would no longer be his Apprentice. Then she would walk into the serpent’s den of the trade council.

But then Sigyn had experience with serpents, did she not? Venom ran through her veins…

“Daughter, tea,” her father said as they walked into the main living area of the home.

“Yes, father.” Sigyn nodded and headed towards the hearth that was blazing with a fire to put the water on to boil.

As she went about the task of preparing the drink, her father nearly collapsed into a chair, undoing the top clasp of his coat to give himself room to breathe. Neither said anything, the crackling fire and bubbling water the only sound. 

“It is not terribly late,” Sigyn worked herself up to say as she brought the water to the table, pulling out the tea leaves to place in the cups, “I thought I might visit Theoric’s parents, share in their grief.”

“Do not treat me with so little disregard,” her father placed his hand over hers, “I know that your heart was never Theoric’s, nor in the marriage.”

Sigyn could not meet her father’s eyes, she could face down the King but not her family.

“You’ve always been a dutiful girl,” he sighed, removing his hand and sinking farther into the chair, “doing what is best for the family, curving that sharp tongue of yours.”

“I would never dishonor our family,” she replied softly, “but I would not stand before the king and deny my heart.”

“Nor should you,” his words were less than enthusiastic, riddled with apathy. 

“Are you going to betroth me to another?” Sigyn asked, hoping she kept her tone neutral. 

“You are not Sturedotter,” he took the cup she had prepared, the tea nearly finished steeping, “it is no longer my place to do such things.”

Sigyn nodded her understanding, the King had released her from certain responsibilities. Whether this part of his plan was intentional, she could not be sure. But now Sigyn was free to do as she pleased and marry, or not, at her leisure.

Her father stood, taking his tea as he headed towards his chamber, “I want you out by the Winter Solstice.”

“Yes, father,” she replied quietly.

Valhalla save her, Sigyn was both happy and sad... but for all the wrong reasons.


	12. Brittle

Brittle

Funerals for the fallen took place in the evening of the following day. As Sigyn stood on the edge of the water, watching the boats go out, her body was thoroughly exhausted.

Speaking to Master Gry had possibly been the easiest task of the day. He was quite pleased with her as he also though the council full of fools. But once she walked into the trade council chambers, the environment was suffocating and hostile. The ones who supported her were simply the ones who did not speak.

Sigyn would not back down, she would not show weakness, she could not afford to.

In this she found a better understanding and sympathy for the prince.

For hours she laid her plan out before them, running the numbers and exploiting the benefits. When there was a point she had not considered, she accepted and worked with it, showing her willingness to compromise. She would not bolster or lay on airs. Sigyn knew her place, but she was also given a task by the King himself. 

By the end of the council meeting, she had managed to win the silence of a respectable number of the councilors. It wasn’t enough for her to declare victory. But measures were now being taken to end the war and she only needed to buy herself some time to chip at the edges of the others who would not see reason.

Upon leaving the council chambers, Sigyn spent a little time preparing for the next day’s meeting. Gry thankfully gave her access to his office as she had not been assigned a Journeyman post yet. Normally an Apprentice would be given a final task to complete to prove themselves. As this was done their post would be prepared for them. It was irregular to literally find one’s self promoted overnight, but there was no arguing with the King.

Sigyn then saw Theoric’s family and it was a cold emotion that passed between them. They held no delusions of the marriage, it was a beneficial arrangement. A few thought her outburst was noble, Theoric did not have to die. Others thought she was heartless, betraying Theoric’s honorable death.

By the time she found herself watching his pyre sail away, she was too tired to even feel numb. 

…

After a few days, Sigyn was given her Journeyman post, basically four walls and a desk. It could hardly be called an office which is why it was referred to as a post. It was a place to work on tasks given to them by the Master Emissaries, or by members of one of the councils. The tasks would have responsibility and consequence attached to them, unlike Apprentices tasks which were glorified clerical work. 

But no Journeyman Emissary would be given a task with something as important as the trade war, that was for Masters and Councilors.

Sigyn was given the smallest post in the dankest corner, farthest away from the resource libraries and other facilities. She was also having issue locating a dorm room in the diplomatic wing of the city center. This is where some of the Apprentices, most of the Journeyman, and a few of the Masters lived, close to the offices and posts. Conveniently nothing was available and it was made clear that if she had gone through the proper protocols then something would have been made ready for her.

As the Master Emissaries and Trade Councilors went off to see about ending the war thanks to the plan Sigyn had helped iron out, she was left to wait. Such negotiations were above her stature and her aid was no longer required. After all, the King wasn’t exactly specific in how much help Sigyn was to give. 

Now that the council had released her, Sigyn could take on her first official Journeyman tasks. It was protocol that if a Master or Journeyman was not requested for a specific task, or if they were unable to take said task, then the Praetor would assign those tasks to whom they thought best suited. Sigyn was given two new tasks and it was quite clear that she had received the most demeaning ones available at the time.

After reviewing the details, Sigyn grabbed her things and went like she was heading to do some research. She was not oblivious to the eyes of the others, nor of the words they thought she could not hear. 

With her head high and her back straight, she left the diplomatic wing and started to simply walk. She did not want to go home, she was in no hurry to complete her tasks, and she did not want to burden her friends with her presence. 

She ended up in the Library, to a small room in the North wing. There was no record of what the room was originally built for, perhaps as a study, but it was empty now, and quiet. It has a small balcony which offered a fairly spectacular view of the city. When Sigyn was learning her magic, she would spirit whatever book she had purloined into the room to read and practice.

This is how she met Loki, he’d had the same idea. 

On the balcony was a small stone bench, she sat down and saw that it was getting late. Soon the sun would be setting, just off to the left of her view, and the city would shine a brilliant gold.

Sigyn closed her eyes, her body finally hunching over, lost of all its poise. Tears streamed from her eyes and her body trembled, her stomach clenching in pain. 

Now she was a woman overcome, she was tired of being numb and let her grief finally take hold.

There was a rustle of fabric and she felt something slip over her shoulders. 

Sigyn nearly jumped from her seat but a familiar face was standing there with his finger pressed to his lips. “Shush, it’s only me.”

“Loki,” the word came out huskier than she would have liked thanks to the fact her throat was dry from her sobs. “I didn’t hear you come in,” she cleared her throat, reaching into her bag to pull out a handkerchief to blow her nose and wipe her face. Loki had given her his coat, the hard leather lined with surprisingly soft fabric, and she did not want to make a mess of it.

“I heard you crying at the door,” he admitted, there was no judgment in his voice.

“I appreciate your continued concern for my mental wellbeing,” she folded the fabric into squares after doing what she could to clean herself up, “but I think at this point it hardly matters. I have obviously gone mad.”

“That’s not what you told father,” Loki immediately responded with a touch of pride, “I haven’t seen anyone stand up to him like that in a long time.”

Nor was he likely to again. “I think you have proven my case.”

“He gave you a promotion and a great honor,” the prince continued and she frowned at him.

“You are royalty, Loki,” she sighed, tugging the coat close as she started to feel the night chill, “you are born of privilege, you do not understand the situation the King has put me in.”

“Not understand?” the man scoffed.

“The other Journeyman have worked countless days to _earn_ their promotion,” she explained it to him as best she could, “and here I get mine simply because your father thought it amusing that I would not cower to him.”

“You showed considerable strength of character,” he tried to correct her by defending both her and his father.

“The others do not see it this way,” she found it was no use arguing with him in these situations, “I was given an honor I wasn’t even trying to achieve, without going through the proper trials, therefore I do not belong and I am treated as such.”

Loki was quiet for a moment as it sunk in. “You are better than them.”

“Am I?” she sighed and starred out at the glittering city, the sun now gone. “I insulted the very heart of Asgard. We are a warrior people but I do not believe fighting is the answer. I am… sacrilegious.”

“Wars can be fought with many weapons,” his words were swift and sure, “I am partial to my sword, but it takes far more skill to win a war without ever having to unsheathe it.”

“You’re a master of lies and manipulations, Loki,” Sigyn glanced over at him, his features made sharper in the reduced light, his eyes more intense, “but I cannot disagree.”

“Then why do you sit here,” he really didn’t seem to get it, “why do you cry?”

“Because I was tired of being strong,” she sighed, looking back over the skyline, “I needed a moment to be weak.”

“Why would you want to be weak?” the spoke the words as if they were so utterly foreign.

“Even a sword must be able to bend,” she tried to explain, “otherwise it will simply turn brittle and break.”

He still looked at her as if she was speaking nonsense, so she shook her head and let it go. Staring out over the cityscape, the wind picked up as the air cooled. Tugging the coat around her shoulders, it was a calming presence that warmed her soul. Sigyn couldn’t but feel a proportionately large amount of guilt at finding more comfort in the trappings of another than she ever did in Theoric’s own arms.

Sigyn could only hope to gain Theoric’s forgiveness when she saw him again in the walls of Valhalla. 

As for Loki, he was a whole other problem she was not prepared to deal with at this time. 

“How did your Realm-Walk go?” she finally asked to break the awkward silence.

“It didn’t,” he admitted with a shrug, “I was too busy trying to keep you alive.”

“Yes,” she breathed deeply, “thank you for that.”

“Why, you seemed to have had it well in hand,” he smirked at her. 

“Do not discount your efforts, my prince,” she chastised him, “I could have easily not been given audience with your father and instead we would be having this conversation with me locked away in the dungeons for eternity.”

“Nonsense,” he chuckled lightly, “I would have broken you out.”

“And where would I have gone?” Sigyn couldn’t help but laugh in reply. “Perhaps I could hid among the Light Elves?”

“Oh, nonsense,” he waved his hand, “you need not left Asgard, I’d hide you in my room.”

The joviality of the moment died inside her and she frowned at Loki.

“Theoric’s death still weighs on you, my dear Sigyn?” He seemed to realize his mistake.

“I may not have loved him,” she finally admitted out loud, “but he was a good man.”

“You would have been happy?” he questioned quietly.

“I like to think so,” she sighed and ran her hands down the lapel of the coat idly. 

“His death was tragic,” he moved a little closer to her, “but now you are free, Sigyn, you can remake your destiny.”

“We are never free, Loki,” Sigyn bowed her head, “I have simply been given a new role to play. I am a Journeymen Emissary who gained the favor of the King. Much is expected of me now. You should know this better than I, you are a prince.”

“And I do as I please,” he sat up, a defiant turn of his chin.

“And you do not let yourself get caught doing it,” she countered, tilting her head at him, “because you are a good prince, a good son. We all have our part to play.”

Loki pressed his lips into a thin line, staring intently at her with those old eyes.

“I should go, it’s late,” she finally said, standing up while holding onto the coat so it did not slip off. It instead enveloped her form completely and felt herself well up with guilt. She shrugged the offending article off, “Thank you for your kindness.”

He stood quickly, taking the coat and standing dangerously close her. “I only ever wanted you to be happy.”

“I know,” she pushed the fabric against him, trying to distance herself, “you’ve been a good friend.”

Loki looked down on her with that unreadable face of his. The dying light sharpening his beauty, his eyes nearly starting to glow. Part of Sigyn wanted to finally give in, kiss him there and throw in her lot, see where it got her. But she knew the prince would break her heart and right now she didn’t think her heart could handle the strain.

“Perhaps you are right, Loki,” she stopped him before he could speak or her resolve broke, “my destiny may be written but I still choose how to walk the path.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” He nearly smiled at her, sadness touching his features.

“I am going to prove my worth,” Sigyn held herself straighter, finding strength born of her tears, “that this title wasn’t just given to me by your father, that I earned it, that I am strong.”

“Shant be hard for you.” Loki continued to stare down at her with those intense eyes. “But don’t forget about your weaknesses, wouldn’t want to see you turn brittle.”

“I know my weaknesses, my prince,” she wondered if he knew he was one of her weaknesses, but then she realized that of course he did, “I will not let them distract me from my goals.”

“Of this, I have no doubt.” Loki nodded at her, stepping back slightly to twirl his coat onto his shoulders.

Sigyn looked back to the darkened city which sparkled like the night sky. Taking a deep breath, no longer did she feel numb, instead she felt rejuvenated. 

Tomorrow she would complete her tasks with poise and principle. Whatever the others threw at her, however they wished to treat her, she would crush them as soundly as that Skathi serpent that dared hiss venom at her. 

For Sigyn was the Serpent of Asgard… it was time she started acting like it.


	13. Snake Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading! I hope you are enjoying the story. :)

Snake Skin

By the time the Winter Solstice was upon them, Sigyn was still very tired, but it was a more agreeable feeling as it was the result of a sense of accomplishment.

It had taken a bit of trial and error, but Sigyn had discovered exactly how to best use her bold reputation to her advantage. Anyone with gumption enough to stand up the king was either crazy or extremely crazy. She even completed a task, settling an argument between two land owners, with only a few words and a gratuitous use of the blank stare.

She was still getting assigned the lowest tasks, those which paid little and offered no prestige. This did not bother her as she considered them a gift, a way to practice and hone skills she really should have been working on more sharply as an Apprentice.

As for her personal life, she took a page from Loki’s book and manipulated what she could to finally secure herself a dorm. Nothing overtly fancy, even less room than her suite at her father’s, but it was to be her home until she could make Master Emissary. 

Her brothers helped her move what few personal belongings she had, most of which had been boxed since before Theoric’s death as she had been expecting to move into a home with her husband. 

The men secured the boxes to the travel cart and Sigyn took one last glance around the building before leaving it for the last time as her home. She had grown up there, had so many memories both pleasant and wretched, and it still made her sad to have to leave it under such circumstances.

Her father said nothing, he sat quietly and drank his tea. 

Their family was not dishonored by events. Theoric’s death was an unfortunate occurrence, so certain aspects of the contract between their families still stood. And as much as she suffered for her promotion, it was generally considered a boon to be given such consideration by the King. At least those not Journeyman or on the trade council thought so. As long as Sigyn did not embarrass herself, the situation brought more honor to her family than she could ever hope to by being married off to a soldier. 

It took a few more days before Sigyn was able to properly unpack as she was kept busy with work. The trade councilors had returned with a truce, negotiations were going to take place. Sigyn was once again ‘asked’ to help in the planning. It was clear this it was only due to them not wanting to anger the King who she was sure found this all highly amusing. 

Idly she wondered if Loki realized just how much he shared in common with his father’s personality.

“How is this even wearable?” Sif held up one of Sigyn’s dresses, a formal frock with no sleeves or straps. A bolero was worn with it to protect one’s modesty.

“Without a sword to weigh it down,” Sigyn chuckled, taking the garment to put away into the closet.

“A sword is much more practical than that dress,” the warrior woman smirked. Sif was ‘dressed down’ out of her battle armor in a tunic and trousers, her weapon absent from sight at least. “Though I will say, you don’t have as many dresses as I thought you might.”

“That you thought I might?” She raised a brow at that, reaching for the last of the dresses which had been stored in a trunk.

“I have seen wives move in with their husbands at the couple’s barracks,” Sif gestured wildly, “their garment trunks nearly always twice this.”

“Ah, well,” Sigyn grinned, “who needs to spend their coin on dresses when one can simply use magic.” She accented her point by snapping her fingers and the orange in her frock turned purple which was enough to give it a distinctively different look.

“Point well said,” the other woman nodded as Sigyn closed up the trunk. Sif reached down and picked up a smaller box, wide but flat. “What’s in this?”

Sigyn stared at the lightly ornate container, her body cold with no heart there to warm it. “It was to be my wedding dress,” she answered quietly, “now it’s just fabric stitched together and shoved into a box.”

Sif frowned sympathetically, carefully laying the box down on a nearby table without opening it.

“I shant worry yourself,” Sigyn began busying herself by opening the other trunk, “it was an arranged marriage and we hadn’t didn’t even wed.”

“Sigyn,” the other woman crossed her arms, “you’re only a horrible liar when you lie to yourself.”

She wanted to argue, but Sigyn could only slump, holding herself up by leaning against the trunk. “I feel like I should be mourning his loss moreso than I am.”

“You don’t miss him?” Sif frowned.

“I do,” Sigyn sighed, “but not as happy as I am that I do not have go through with it.”

“You are free.” The woman nodded her understanding.

“Not free,” she corrected, “no one is ever truly free.”

“That’s disheartening,” Sif made a face at her, “and wrong, I wouldn’t be where I was if I wasn’t free to do what it took.”

“You’re free to pick your battles, Sif,” Sigyn sighed, wondering if she was truly the only person to understand this… or was she the one in the wrong? “But the war, the war rages on and you are still but a soldier.”

“On this we’ll have to disagree,” Sif shook her head, having none of it, “you are a serpent, Sigyn, and what do serpents do?”

“A great many things, I’m sure.” Sigyn frowned.

“They shed their skin,” the warrior spread her hands wide for emphasis, “sometimes even changing their shape and colors.”

Sigyn continued to frown at her friend.

“You are a serpent, Sigyn,” Sif stepped forward, placing her hands on Sigyn’s shoulders, “so shed your skin, change your colors, become something more than you were, that is freedom, Sigyn.”

Not knowing what to say, Sigyn gave the woman a resigned smile, a hint of hope that perhaps the warrior was right. If Sigyn was going to start acting her part as the Serpent of Asgard… then perhaps it was time she shed her skin.

…

The Winter Solstice was less about races and games because the weather was cold, snowy, and it’s generally more fun to drink mead in front of a fire. But there was still fun to be had, magic flowed more freely as artists created all manner of beauty out of the darkness. It was a delightful and relaxing time, giving Sigyn air to breathe.

Then the last night of the festival was for dancing, grand balls being held all across Asgard. Sigyn had never been able to attend the Royal Ball that was held in the palace as she never had any standing. As a Journeyman, she could attend one of the second tier dances in the out edge of the palace, so she made her preparations accordingly.

Sigyn considered going to the Royal Ball, she took a small but perverse pleasure in knowing she could probably just walk straight in and dare anyone to stop her. 

But no, she had no standing in the court and while she did call one prince a friend, the other a dear friend, Sigyn knew her place. She had not yet proven herself as an Emissary and she had already worn out her favor from helping Loki in the Skathi cave. She would attend the proper ball for her proper place and mend the rift between her and her fellow Journeymen.

When Sigyn dressed for the ball, she had a particular design in mind, spending a little of what she could save in order to complete her look without the need of copious amounts of magic. While she was sure she could hold the illusion for the time needed, there were some things that had to be done in reality.

Sigyn was not a widow, but had she and Theoric had the chance to wed, she would be attending the ball with him as husband and wife. This was not lost on her and nor would she let herself forget.

It was not lost on the others as well.

Asgardians live a long time, it is unrealistic to think that a widowed Asgardian would never marry again. But all creatures need time to mourn, to accept death, and mend their heart. It was considered ill-mannered to ask a widow to dance or otherwise partake in similar relationship related events until they made it known they were ready to move on.

A typical way for a woman to show herself in mourning was to wear a weeping shawl. It was a dark red fabric with symbols and ruins denoting the loss they bore. Sigyn had one made for her, only this one showing the loss she was never able to bear for she lost Theoric too soon. She entered the ball room with her head held high, the shawl around her shoulders, noting everyone’s reactions once they realized what she had done. 

“You’re free,” one of her fellow Journeymen stood next to her as Sigyn watched several couples dancing to a particular waltz on the main floor, “even I am not stripped of my dotter yet. So why do you purposefully deny all the options before you?”

The woman, Embla, had been more forgiving of Sigyn’s promotion, but hardly a friend. Again, the most kindness she seemed to receive these days was a simple lack of hatred.

“Theoric was a good, kind, and loving man,” Sigyn spoke plainly, but surely, “I was to be his wife, gladly give him my loyalty and faithfulness, I will not dishonor his memory by so crassly forgetting this.”

Embla paused, her eyes not hiding their judging nature, but then she sighed, “You are a strange one, Sigyn.”

“I’ve been called worse,” she simply shrugged, turning her attention back to the dancers. 

The other woman chuckled, “I have no doubt.”

The music changed and the couples departed, individuals now taking the floor in hopes of being partnered up with someone agreeable once the music was struck again. Sigyn had been a dancer, long ago, in the plays the school children were made to perform during the festivals. Her magic was always clean but she never did have the grace needed to truly stand out as a dancer. Though perhaps she should have spent more time practicing her dancing and not hiding out in the Royal Library.

As the evening went on, Sigyn could tell when her story of loyalty to her would-be husband got to certain parts of the room. She hoped that the story stayed intact, not warped or abused, but it was out of her hands at that point. Tomorrow would prove interesting if damage control had to be done.

A ruckus of the jovial kind was heard down the other end of the hall. Sigyn was apt to ignore it as it was bound to happen and it would not be the only one that night. It wasn’t until she heard the distinctive bellow of Thor that she realized that something very peculiar had occurred.

It wasn’t uncommon to hear that Thor, the Warriors Three, and Sif had attended more than one ball outside the Royal Ball. But it was usually them going to the dances near the military barracks so they could drink and be merry with their fellow uncouth soldiers. Why would they come to a dance populated mostly by future bureaucrats?

Only one word sprang to mind and she sighed: Loki.

“Cousin!” Fandral greeted her as she made her way over to the group. 

“Cousin,” she smiled and accepted his embrace, “unexpected to see you here.”

“I know, splendid, isn’t it?” the man had already drank a copious amount of mead, but his tipsy manner was mostly joviality induced.

“It is something, for sure,” Sigyn couldn’t help but laugh, looking over where Thor had his arm around a Praetor, both laughing at something.

Glancing around, she could see the interest in everyone’s faces. To think, the Crown Prince and his friends hanging out at their ball? 

Somehow a drinking contest got started within a matter of seconds. Fandral rushed off to join in as several flagons where brought forward. Many gathered around to watch, cheering on the contestants. 

A shadow fell over her. 

“Do I dare ask how?” Sigyn asked, still watching the drunken proceedings. “Wait, let me guess, you made him think it was his idea?”

Loki chuckled, “It is the best method, works on the strong and weak minded alike.”

“But not if they are aware of what you’re doing.” Sigyn glanced over at his grinning face, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Don’t you have your own parties to crash, you come to mine?”

“Trying something new,” he shrugged, his lips still tipped in a grin, but then his attention fell on her shawl, “had half a mind to ask you to dance.”

Sigyn raised a single brow. “Half a mind?” 

“Perhaps three-quarters.” Loki grinned mischievously, then quickly calmed himself. “I know you’ve had a rough time lately, thought maybe you could use some joviality.”

“Well, I was attempting to,” she crossed her arms, tilting her head at him, “then you had to bring your brother so he could drink all the ale.”

To accent her point, someone belched, loudly, then passed out cold. Everyone cheered.

“No, my dear Sigyn,” Loki continued unfazed, “you were trying to appease these…” he glanced around, searching for a word, “… sheep. You would have been welcomed at the Royal Ball, but you came here so you wouldn’t risk them feeling inadequate or threatened by you.”

Sigyn drew in a long, deep breath. “You’d be surprised what you can gain by losing a battle, Loki, you should try it sometime.”

Loki stared at her with those intense rich eyes. “Perhaps I should,” he nearly whispered, then lightly bowed to her. “You’re in mourning, my dear Sigyn, and I do not wish to cause you any more pain. I have been flirtatious to you in the past, you have asked me to stop, which I did so poorly.”

“I thought it rather restrained,” she couldn’t help but say, searching his face for any sign of his deceit and mischief, “for you.”

With a chuckle and clearing of his throat, he placed his hand across his chest. “I will attempt to further restrain myself,” then he gave her one of his rare genuine smiles, “and be a better friend.”

How could a statement both uplift and hurt at the same time?

“Thank you, Loki,” was all that she managed to say.

At her words, the smile stayed on his lips for just a tad bit longer, but then it melted away back into one of his charming grins. “That being said, would you allow one last questionable comment?”

Sigyn was not terribly surprised by this, her mind racing to figure out what words he spoke where truth, which were lies, and how many boarded both. Time was the only judge she could trust in this matter, either Loki would do as he said or he would not. 

After making him wait a moment, she nodded her head. “One last questionable comment.”

His eyes travelled down her body and of course Loki would notice her dress. While it was a typical Asgardian style, it had panels of dark blue which were not standard fabric. Instead, the dress was lined in snake skin leather, the ridges nearly hidden so that one had to be close to realize the pattern. 

“I must say, my dear Sigyn,” he grinned at her as he met her eyes, “I am enjoying the new motif, it suits you well.”

Sigyn may be the Serpent, but Loki was certainty not a Liar… that night at least.


	14. If It Where Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I have never been sailing and I live in a land-locked state. I tried... just go with it. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

If It Where Easy

“No worry, it’s supposed to do that,” Fandral said with a confidence that defied the wideness of his eyes as smoke rose from the engine of their open air flyer.

Several moments later her cousin had fixed whatever it was that ‘wasn’t broken’ and they were ready to give the flyer a test flight. Time had been traveling quickly and the Summer Solstice was nearing. Fandral set up a training schedule so that they could try out his modifications and in general keep their skills sharp.

The test run had given them their fastest time yet and Sigyn now stood on the deck of their flyer watching Fandral securing the sails.

“I’m absolutely brilliant.”He clasped his hands together once he was done. 

Laughing, she patted him on the back. “Indeed you can be.”

“Permission to board?” Thor’s voice called up from the dock.

“Permission granted,” Fandral shouted back as if he was a grand general or some sort, still positively giddy from their successful run.

Sigyn had expected to see Thor and the other warriors, but only he and Loki came over the railing, landing on the deck with a thud to their boots. Both the brothers acknowledged Fandral but their attention turned to her which was a surprise.

“Milady,” Thor spoke in something of a regal tone, “we’ve discovered how the Kree came to know our location.”

It almost seemed like forever ago that Theoric died and events spiraled such as they did, but in truth the seasons hadn’t even came full circle. Sigyn’s stomach knotted up as the guilt she felt surged forward.

“It was something of a clerical error,” Loki continued for his brother, his words soft and gentle. “An err in our communications that occurred at the most inopportune time.”

“Aye,” Thor agreed, “there was no malice here. I hope you can take some comfort in that.”

“Thank you,” she replied with a nod of her head. The subject of honor was a tad sore spot between them, Thor still standing by the Asgardian ideal of an honorable death. But the older prince was honest enough to admit that perhaps they shouldn’t have been fighting in the first place. Perhaps.

“No idea why they sent two battalions though,” Loki added nearly absentmindedly, “seems a bit much for the information they received.”

Thor gave his brother a questionable look at his thoughtless statement. Loki realized his mistake and started to speak but Fandral cut him off. 

“We were just about to have another run,” her cousin stood between the men, “and I think a race is just the thing right now.”

Sigyn took a deep breath. “I think you are right, Fandral.” When she flew, it was just her, the flyer, and the open air. She couldn’t afford to think about anything else.

“You’ll join us,” Fandral clasped his arms around his friends, “won’t you?”

“You mean fly with you?” Thor asked for confirmation, his eyes bewildered.

“Afraid of getting air sick?” Loki grinned, egging his brother who gave him a dour look.

“More worried about our added weight,” the older prince turned back to Fandral, “I am no airman, but even I understand ballast.”

“We can adjust for it,” Sigyn decided it was a delightful idea to have the brothers on the flyer, experiencing firsthand the thrill of the race. Perhaps they would give Fandral a little less of a hard time about his issues with grace when they saw what he could truly do. 

And it would help take her mind off things.

“It’ll be good practice,” her cousin agreed, moving away from the brothers to release the sails he had secured.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Loki looked at her. “Putting our lives in your hands?”

“Good thing you have collateral,” Sigyn reminded him and then internally chastised herself. What good was it to get Loki to stop flirting with her if she was going to do it right back at him?

“Well then,” Thor wasn’t paying attention to them, he was watching Fandral jump around to prep the sails, “where do you want us?”

Their flyer was based off of a service flyer which had benches to either sit on or to lay wounded. The racing version of course had them removed. As Sigyn was the pilot and the prince’s inclusion would affect her more, she gestured to the center post, which was farther aft than center. “Why don’t you two sit opposite of the mast, you can hold on to the railing if it gets too rocky.”

Fandral would be at the front of the ship, on the jib sail, using it as an airfoil to cut turbulence on the mainsail. Racing flyers were limited to the amount of energy they could use, they all had to use the same engine to make it fair. The true test in a team was the ability of the pilot and boatswain to work together, cutting through the wind and even using it to propel them faster.

Thor nodded and went to the other side of the flyer, making comment to Fandral. Loki, however, moved towards the pilots rig in the back. “This is where you sit?”

“Yes,” she answered simply because he knew the answer. All pilots sat at the rudder which controlled the propulsion as well as the pitch and yaw of the flyer.

“I hear talk that you’re an exceptional pilot,” he said as he examined the rudder, “while I do not doubt it as I saw you race last Summer, I have to ask what makes it so?”

“Trying to steal my secrets, Loki?” She frowned at him, her friend always had an angle.

“Perhaps?” He shrugged, grinning as he was want to do.

Sigyn moved past him and sat down in the pilot’s chair. She’d taken to wearing a simple slip of a dress with a form fitting woolen coat over it when she raced. The high speed meant cold, sometimes biting winds, and this gave her the best movement and protection. She could also wear a helmet but most pilots looked down at that. You weren’t a real pilot if you couldn’t navigate with the wind coursing through your hair.

“I’m afraid it’s not really a secret,” Sigyn finally admitted when she failed to figure out his motives. 

“Well then,” he sighed with a touch of melodrama, “what would be the fun in stealing it?”

“No fun at all.” She gave him a ‘sympathetic frown’, trying not to grin. “The truth is, Loki, is that most Asgardians are far too heavy handed.”

“Oh?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Yes,” Sigyn wrapped her hands softly around the controls, “a great pilot must have a light touch, they must be gentle, not force it.”

“I see.” Loki glanced around, possibly so that he wouldn’t have to look at her, she couldn’t be too sure.

“Sigyn,” Fandral called out, “ready when you are.”

“Aye,” she called back, starting up the engine, feeling it rumble through the flyer before settling. 

As she lifted off and they made their way to the start of the test track, Thor and Loki settled in on opposite sides of the mast. Fandral got into position with the jib sail, doing last minute checks. Sigyn braced herself, the rudder tucked under her right arm, both her hands clasped lightly around the control stem.

They had to pause at the gate which was just a holographic line drawn through the air, waiting for the signal that the last team had finished their lap. 

Sigyn held the rudder lightly, feeling the way the wind was tugging, her cousin doing the same with the jib. 

“Da,” Fandral said once they got the all-clear signal, the man pulling the jib slightly to one side.

“Da,” Sigyn tapped at the controls, revving up the propulsion and getting the rudder into position to cut directly through the wind. 

“Ta,” was his callback and through her peripherals she could see the brothers making confused faces, no one had apparently told them about the short speak the airman use, especially in racing. 

“Ta,” she replied loudly, clearly, taking a deep breath, “RA!”

Sigyn released the throttle on the propulsion and they shot forward at incredible speed. Thor and Loki were not expecting it and both jerked sideways, falling onto their sides. This caused a small shift in the weight distribution but she compensated for it quickly, moving the rudder not only with her hands but her whole body.

The princes righted themselves, grabbing ahold of the railing just in time to keep themselves upright as Sigyn banked through the first turn of the course.

“Le,” Fandral shouted as he ran the length of the deck, moving the jib with him, cutting the wind as Sigyn dived under a rock formation that jutted out from the side of the mountain.

“Uh,” she pulled back on the rudder to rise swiftly, trying to take advantage of the natural air currents created by the outcrops. 

“Sa,” her cousin continued his dance with the jib, this time jumping up on the railing, leaning back with the jib mast in his hands. Anyone but an experienced sailor would have had the jib ripped from them, but Fandral was seemingly never meant to be anywhere but in the air.

They were coming up on a zig zag of turns through more rocky outcrops, so Sigyn closed her eyes. She had learned it was better not to rely on her eyes, to instead feel the wind, to ride with it, to only fight it so much, and it would cut her the best path. 

“Ce,” Fandral called out once they were clear and Sigyn opened her eyes, already sending the flyer into a dive as she knew from experience every dip of the track.

Hazarding a glance at the brothers, she saw they both had death grips on the railings. Thor was grinning with exhilaration while Loki looked like he was about to kill them all.

Allowing herself a grin, she shouted, “Fe!”

“Fe,” was the return and Fandral moved the jib as they came upon the largest dive in the course. 

Normally, the best and safest option was a slopped, steady dive. Safe didn’t always win. The faster they got into the air currents at the bottom of that part of the track, the faster they could shoot through the caves.

Throttling back on the propulsion, Fandral sharply cut the angle on the jib and they went into a controlled free fall. 

Sigyn and Fandral were very much used to the sensation, their bodies feeling as if gravity had suddenly turned off, and so they kept themselves steady, focused on the flyer. If they misjudged anything they could easily smash into the surrounding rocks which still showed marks of those who had.

The princes on the other hand, they shouted as they started to float up off the deck. 

“Fe!” she shouted as soon as she felt it, the wind current which flowed fast and hard.

As she pulled back on the rudder, she released the throttle and Fandral was already moving the jib to slice through the wind. The brothers hit the deck hard and there was much cursing.

This rocked the flyer but Sigyn had expected it, easing the rudder, not forcing it, and keeping on the track. They skimmed through the caves which were dark except for a few glow balls. Knowing the course by heart now, she came within a hands width of the walls at times as they made their way through. Fandral kept the nose down so they didn’t drift up and catch the sail on the ceiling.

Once out, it was a straight shot to the finish, a mad dash to cut through as fast as they dared.

“Ta,” Fandral warned, angling the jib.

“Ta,” Sigyn kept the flyer straight and sure. 

“Da!” her cousin shouted as they crossed the finish line of the track.

“Da!” she called back, easing the throttle and cutting propulsion to something more reasonable.

Able to take her total focus off of the flyer, she saw the two princes near sprawled out on the deck. Thor was laughing, grabbing the mast to help haul himself up. “I think I owe a few apologies.”

“An apology?” Fandral was still handling the jib sail, just to keep the flyer from rocking from too much turbulence. “From the mighty Thor?”

“Aye,” the man managed to stand while Loki was also attempting to get to his feet. “I think I’ve under appreciated the skill of the airmen.”

There was a large thud as Loki, in his attempt to stand, failed to do so. 

“You alright there brother?” Thor laughed at Loki who was nearly as green as the trim on his coat. Thor had Mjolnir, he was much more used to the ills of flight than his brother. 

“So graceful,” Fandral chuckled, offering the younger prince a hand. 

Both men helped Loki to his feet, much to the prince’s chagrin. Loki did his best to play off the fall but no one could hide their grins, including Sigyn. They pulled into the dock, Fandral securing the sails as she cut propulsion and dropped softly into the docking cradle. 

The practice race had been a splendid idea. It let Sigyn reset her mind and not think about all the emotions Theoric’s death had brought up in her. She could bury them for a little time longer.

“I think my brother could use a drink.” Thor patted Loki on the back, teasing him playfully.

“Sounds like an excellent idea.” Frandral accented his words by jumping from the railing of the flyer onto the dock with a flourish.

“Are you sure you weren’t born with wings?” Thor called after him as he took the more plebian route of the ladder attached to the cradle.

Sigyn locked the controls of the flyer and stood, expecting to follow Loki. The prince instead stood to the side, offering his hand should she need help getting over the rail onto the ladder. She didn’t of course. While she wasn’t as nimble as Fandral, she was much more graceful than Loki. 

“You do have a light touch, my dear Sigyn,” Loki said as she was polite and took his hand, stepping up onto the rail, “there is much more skill involved than I gave credit.”

“Oh, Loki,” she sighed sweetly as she looked down at him with a grin, “if it were easy, anyone would do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my call-forward to the events in Dark World. I felt that there had to be something of a story there with Fandral's comments. Also, the way Loki says "if it where easy..." didn't feel like him being sarcastic because, let's be honest, he's much more sarcastic and glib than that.


	15. Weregild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)

Weregild

Sigyn sat at her desk in her post, carefully drafting an agreement for a property deal. Not the most glamourous of tasks, but she noticed that she hadn’t been getting all the worse tasks anymore, just a disproportionate share of them. 

The Summer Solstice was only days away, but this time of year also meant changes in the diplomatic offices. A couple of Journeyman became Masters and several Apprentices were brought up into Journeyman status. The new Journeyman were given a mix of low and medium tasks. Whatever low tasks were left over were given to Sigyn as she continued to accept her punishment for her transgression. 

But begrudgingly, the other Journeyman saw she was skilled and the Praetor’s would throw her medium tasks as if she was a proper new Journeyman. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Sigyn was, if anything, a patient woman.

“Sigyn.” One of the Praetor’s, Asmund, knocked and entered through the open door, a befuddled look on his face.

“Yes, Praetor?” Sigyn put down what she was working on and gave him her attention.

“You…” he looked at the tablet he was carrying, reading it again, “you have been personally requested to complete a task.”

A Journeyman being requested for a task was not unheard of, especially when a Journeyman Emissary showed that they had skills in a particular area. Eventually a Journeyman could start setting their own price for those kinds of tasks. It was also a sure sign that a Journeyman was getting close to being able to become a Master. 

Though there was always the one-off moments.

“It’s a weregild settlement,” Asmund continued, passing over the tablet, “and you’ve been requested by Ingolf Noldinson, do you know him?”

“Hardly,” Sigyn frowned as she took the item and began to scroll through the details, “he is one of Loki’s followers, studying the magical arts. I believe I have spoken no more than five words to him.”

“Will this be a conflict then?” the Praetor asked in all seriousness, conflict of interests should always be avoided in these cases. “He’s a friend of the prince.”

“I do not know the man personally,” Sigyn assured Asmund, adding, “and as for both of us being Loki’s friend, for one, Loki doesn’t have friends, not really. For two, why would I show favoritism to one of Loki’s acquaintances when I won’t even show favor to his father, the King?”

Asmund stared blankly at her for a moment, then shook his head. “You truly are a strange one, Sigyn.”

“People keep saying that,” she tilted her head thoughtfully, “I think I’ll start taking it as a compliment.”

…

The Asgardian justice system was rather straight forward in that there was no courts and most all issues were dealt with internally by the parties affected. But since Asgardians lived for thousands of years, letting animosities or blood feuds continue unchecked could lead to disastrous consequences that could wipe out most of Asgard’s population. Punishment by incarnation was made problematic for the very same reasons.

Thankfully, Asgard was a generally safe place with little purposeful crime. Asgardians are hardy people who actually enjoyed a good brawl. Murder was near unheard of, although manslaughter did occur from time to time. As for other crimes, technology had made it so that most types of crime had become relatively rare as well. 

But when a crime did occur, justice had to be served. This is how the ancient tradition of Weregild came about. 

The concept was simple, if one person wronged another, then they would pay a price for the crime and the subject would be dropped. The price could be literal payment of coin or items, or it could be by way of favor or actions. The weregild payment would have to be agreed upon by both parties, or in the case of a death, the family of the deceased. 

Over the years a general consensus was gained on how certain crimes would be settled. But this was more of a guideline to start off negotiations which typically were dealt with by the parties involved. If one wished, they could hire an Emissary to make an impartial declaration that was binding to both parties. Payment of the Emissary was no guarantee of a favorable settlement, but if one was willing to pay for an Emissary then they likely believed that the facts were in their favor already and the other party was bulking.

With all of this in mind, Sigyn examined the details of the weregild case that was brought to her. Between practicing for the next race, she found time to speak with both parties involved, as well as witnesses to events, and she examined what surveillance footage there was. 

The day before the Summer Solstice festival was to begin, Sigyn came to her conclusion. She met both parties in a meeting room in the Royal Library and presented her findings, listing exactly what the weregild tribute would be. 

Ingolf was not pleased.

“Sigyn.” The man stopped her in the hall as she left, grabbing her by the arm to stop her. 

“Unhand me,” she looked down at his fingers wrapped around her bicep, “now.”

“This is outrageous,” Ingolf ignored her command, gesturing wildly with his other hand, “I can’t afford that weregild.”

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before you performed actions willfully and knowingly of their consequences.” She tightened her jaw, knowing she could probably jerk out of his grasp, but that wasn’t the point. “Let go of me, I will not ask again.”

“It was an accident!” Ingolf shouted and instead of letting her go he grabbed her other arm. “Reverse your ruling.”

Sigyn felt the panic rise in her. While Ingolf was much younger than her, he was a large man with wide shoulders that gave him a dominating presence. All Asgardians were taught to protect themselves from a young age, but Sigyn never had use to practice those skills. The only fight she had ever been in was fighting serpents in the Skathi cave…

Summoning a ball of light, she exploded it between them. 

Her attacker let go, shielding his eyes from the light, but Sigyn had closed her eyes and retained her sight. Pushing Ingolf, she turned to run down the hall. Throwing out an illusion of herself running left, she dodged right and hid behind a pillar. 

Ingolf ran after the illusion, disappearing down the hallway. 

Taking a deep breath, Sigyn ran back down the hallway towards the main section of the Royal Library. When she got there, she made her way into an atrium where magic students tended to gather. Sigyn needed time to think about what just happened and she knew being in a group of people was safer than trying to get out of the library alone with Ingolf gone mad.

In hindsight, she realized that in the back of her mind she knew Loki would be there in the atrium. When she saw him standing among the others, a sense of peace and safety came over her.

The prince was discussing the finer details of illusions, using a bilgsnipe as his example, when he glanced over at her to acknowledge her arrival. His words died on his lips as his face dropped from joviality to emotionless within a heartbeat. With his jaw tight, he only asked one word, “Who?”

“Ingolf,” she hesitantly admitted as everyone looked to her, wondering if she had just doomed the man, “he did not wish to pay his weregild.”

Loki acted swiftly and surely, calling forth the guards stationed in the library to locate the wayward Ingolf. She told him exactly what happened while they waited for the guards to return, the prince remaining strangely silent. It was then that Sigyn noticed that the sleeve of her dress had ripped at the seam. Between that and her likely less-than-composed expression, she didn’t want to know what he had thought when he saw her.

Heavy booted men walked into the atrium, one with a hard grip on Ingolf’s arm. They stopped in front of Loki, the lead guard addressing him, “Prince, what do you wish we do with him?”

“It is not the prince’s decision,” Sigyn said quickly before Loki could say something. Loki sharply turned to look at her but she ignored him, “Ingolf attacked me, and me alone.”

There was a general rumble through the room, some of it from the fact she would so purposely cut off the prince. But they were all in agreement, Sigyn was the one Ingolf laid hands on. As she was no longer bound, no one else had right to speak for her in this matter. Loki could try to pull royal privilege, but she gave him a stern expression that did not need translating.

“You were supposed to rule in my favor,” Ingolf seemed to regain some of his backbone once he realized Loki had deferred the matter to her.

“I am an Emissary,” she replied with dignity. “I made the only conclusion there was to make, your actions were willful, not accidental as you proclaim. You knew there was a high likelihood your actions would injure but you went ahead anyway,” he tried to interrupt her but she held up her hand sharply and continued, “and as for your weregild, you can well enough afford it, though it will mean a burden of inconvenience for you. Which is fitting for what you did.”

Ingolf hissed at her, fighting his anger as the guard kept hold of him.

“Now,” Sigyn straighten herself a little bit more, “to the matter of your laying hands on me with the intent to do harm.”

“I did no such thing,” the man nearly shouted, “you misunderstood the situation.”

“Did I?” Sigyn laughed incredulously. “You attacked me, whether or not it was done purposefully or through your anger changes little.”

“I wouldn’t say I attacked you,” he tried again.

“Guards,” Loki spoke near lazily, “access the surveillance for that wing of the library.”

Sigyn tried not to grimace, not because she wasn’t rightly attacked, but because Loki beat her to asking for the footage. Granted, as prince, the guards would immediately attend to the request. She would have had to ask and receive permission first which would have dragged things out.

One of the guards stepped to the side and pulled out a small device. With a gesture, the image of the hallway in question was brought up. A few swipes and everyone in attendance were witness to Ingolf’s attack. It was clear to see that Ingolf may not have started off wanting to do her harm, but his refusal to unhand her and his escalation spoke for itself.

The fight seemed to visibly drain from Ingolf as everyone looked at him judgingly. 

“Well now,” the laze was still in Loki’s voice, “this seems to be conclusive.”

“Yes it does,” Sigyn’s mind raced at a methodical pace, “let’s settle this now, Ingolf.”

“Fine,” the man bit out, “I did not set out to harm you, a standard settlement for this kind of—”

“No,” she cut him off sternly, “you impugned my honor as an Emissary, that is a slight I cannot let stand.”

That caused the room to go quiet, even Loki was watching her with shrewd interest in his eyes.

“Ingolf Noldinson,” Sigyn continued, “you will pay for another Emissary, of the Praetor’s choosing, to review my work.”

“Uh,” Ingolf was not very articulate in his confusion.

“That will be all,” Sigyn said dismissively, turning her back on the man and addressing Loki. “Thank you for your assistance.”

The prince nodded at her. “Always a pleasure.”

Sigyn was confident in her abilities as an Emissary, at least at this level, and knew that any other Emissary would have made the same decisions. But because it was an investigation of an Emissary, the Praetor would choose one of the most experienced Journeyman, maybe even a Master, and that would cost Ingolf much. 

The Emissary might even see his recent actions as establishing a characterization, a habit of willful endangerment. If they did, they could easily increase her original weregild settlement. 

Being investigated would do no harm to Sigyn’s reputation, especially as she was the one requesting it. It would only prove that she was quite capable and trustworthy. 

Loki knew what she was up to, she could see his understanding in his eyes. He grinned at her, wide and near sinister, almost as if he was proud of his little Serpent.


	16. The Dagger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading. :)

The Dagger

Sigyn was clutching Fandral’s arm, not even realizing she was holding her breath. 

The lap time came up for the last flyer team through the course. 

Fandral started to holler while Sigyn remained in shock.

“We won!!!” Her cousin grabbed her and swirled her around, that’s when it finally sunk in for Sigyn.

“We won!” She shouted happily as he put her down. 

They had come in third during the qualifying round, so once they took their run, they had to wait on the last two flyers before they knew their place. Their time had been excellent, with a decent sized lead, and this guaranteed them at least third in the final count. 

But the other two teams just couldn’t quite cut those last few seconds and that meant victory for Sigyn and Fandral.

The other teams still on the docking platform congratulated them for winning, this included the second to last team who now found themselves in third. Most of the congratulations were directed towards Fandral, many of the other flyers still finding it hard to accept a female as a pilot. Sif told her that they would not be retrained from their ways overnight and not to despair, they would be made to realize one’s gender does not dictate one’s capabilities.

“You did it!” Thor and the warriors had appeared on the dock, giving their friend a warm greeting. “I told you that you must have been born with wings!”

The older prince did not leave her out, giving her a massive but respectful hug. “And you are truly a serpent, the way you maneuver your flyer, as if you were striking out at prey.”

“Kind words,” Sigyn was at a loss as how to take the compliment.

After giving their best to the team who came in second, the group headed to the feast. This time, Sigyn and Fandral were honored as the winners, receiving a battle honor as a prize. It was just a small gold token, something Sigyn could easily have turned into a pendant for a necklace, but it was still a recognizable honor that she had flew the fastest during the Summer Solstice festival. 

“Congratulations to you both,” Loki appeared between her and Fandral after they had sat down, “that was quite exciting.”

“Didn’t get air sick watching us?” Fandral laughed, his mood entirely too jovial. Loki was not at all amused.

Sven and her younger brothers were also there, congratulating her. She tried not to be disappointed that her father had not come to see her race. 

Everyone feasted and drank throughout the night. A few fights had broken out, of the festive type. Fandral kissed every available female in the area, including Sigyn, but that was a friendly peck on the cheek. He even kissed Sif who punched him squarely in the jaw much to everyone’s amusement.

By the time Sigyn decided she had best head back to her dormitory, it was early daylight and near everyone was passed out cold. She needed to return to the dock to do the final checks and maintenance on her flyer. But since Fandral was absconded somewhere with the ladies, she figured she would get some rest and hopefully find him during mid-meal. 

“Walking home by yourself?” Loki called to her as she was weaving her way past some passed out Asgardians.

“Just to the ferries,” she told him, the adrenaline of the night wearing off and making her tired, “they should still be running.”

Asgard was a large place and so skiffs were used to ferry people around, though not at the speeds Sigyn could get her flyer. They would drop people off nearly anywhere, but to catch one you had to go to a ferry dock and see what was available.

“That’s still a bit of a walk,” he said as he approached, gesturing to the large open areas of the festival grounds. The feasting tents were set closer to the racing course and the ferry docks were much father back towards the other festival tents to keep them from accidently getting in the way of the race. 

“I hope you’re not offering to carry me.” Sigyn frowned at him.

“Simply want to see you safely to the ferries, my dear Sigyn,” Loki chuckled, gesturing towards the festival tents and they started to walk. 

He clasped his hands behind his back and they walked in quiet. It was actually a fairly nice walk, the early morning sun soft and the air crisp. 

“Oh, and congratulations again,” Loki said after a few minutes, “I hear the Emissary came back already and sided with you on the weregild case.”

“Yes.” It hadn’t taken the Master Emissary long to see that Sigyn had indeed made a fair and balanced settlement for Ingolf’s weregild. “Is that why you’re walking me to the ferry,” she said as she knew Loki always had ulterior motives for everything he did, “are you worried Ingolf will come after me again?”

“I doubt he would be that stupid,” the prince said with perhaps a touch of anger, “but one can never be too sure.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Sigyn replied softly, “but it is not your place to worry about me so.”

“You are my friend, are you not?” he easily countered.

“That I am,” she sighed and gave an apologetic nod, the man always confusing her emotions. While she knew that becoming romantic with the prince would lead her to nothing but heartbreak, she could not help the sense of comfort and peace she felt just being in his presence. 

Feelings of lust she could easily clamp down on and ignore, it was the feelings of completeness he gave her that troubled her so.

“Here we are,” Loki said as they got to the ferry dock, a few waiting for fares. 

“Thank you,” she gave Loki a smile and polite bow, “for your thoughtfulness towards my safety.”

“I’ve done little,” he frowned at her, “but I could do more.”

Sigyn considered his words. “Loki Odinson, I do hope you are not planning harm towards Ingolf.”

The prince gave her a coy look, as if he’d considered it but realized she would say such a thing. “I think you’ve done quite enough harm to him, don’t you agree?”

She hated it when she couldn’t tell if he was being serious or factious, or both.

“Those like Ingolf are the instruments of their own demise,” Loki continued dismissively, “all we have to do is stand back and watch.”

“Those like Ingolf?” Sigyn raised a single brow. “You mean those who lie and cheat?”

A slow grin formed on Loki’s lips. “Those who are entirely too heavy handed, my dear Sigyn, for as with your flying, lying and cheating takes a… gentle touch.”

“Once again I find myself agreeing with you, Loki,” she allowed herself a sigh, “for all the wrong reasons.”

Loki chuckled, the grin reaching his eyes with the rising sun just off behind him. “But you agree.”

“Oh, Loki.” Sigyn couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“I have something for you,” Loki said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a long, flat, wooden box. 

As the prince placed it in her hands, she thought it might be a jewelry box which again made her all manner of confused and conflicted. But it was much too wide for as long as it was. 

“This is possibly highly improper,” she told him as she opened the lid of the box.

“Possibly,” was his glib reply.

Inside the box was a dagger of amazing craftsmanship. The blade was of the finest metal and looked to be given a special finish that meant it would never dull. The hilt and handle looked to be gold, but she knew that it would be of a much sturdier metal and only made to look gilded. The handle was a serpent, a Skathi by the etched in design. 

“I…” Sigyn cleared her throat, “It’s beautiful.”

“Ingolf will not be the last person to attack you, Sigyn,” there was a seriousness to the prince’s voice that she hadn’t heard there before, not as deep and rich, “you speak your mind and use your words as weapons, but you need to be able to defend yourself.”

“I am not a warrior.” Sigyn closed the box and went to hand it back to him.

“You’re something better, my dear Sigyn,” he held up his hands to keep her from giving the gift back, “you’re a rarity amongst us, you must be protected.”

“Again you speak of me as if I’m an object,” she pressed the box closer to him to accent her point, “I am no such thing.”

“I meant no disrespect,” Loki quickly assured her, “I simply want to see you safe. If anything, because you are my friend.”

Sigyn stilled her jaw, hating that the one thing she wanted, to have an uncomplicated friendship with the prince, was being thrown back at her to manipulate her. That was the way of Loki, the liar, the trickster, the master manipulator. 

And if she was honest with herself, she knew he was right. 

Sighing, Sigyn accepted the gift, holding it again in both of her hands. Emissary work could be dangerous, most employed guards to accompany them when they went to dangerous locations, such as the Kree home world. As a Journeyman, Sigyn wouldn’t likely be put in these situations, but it was her goal to make Master. 

“I suppose,” she let out a long breath, “that one can never be too careful, especially when one such as I has issues knowing when prudence is the better part of valor.”

“That’s one thing I hope you never learn,” Loki grinned at her, utterly pleased, “but now, I give you more than this dagger, I will teach you how to use it.”

“Teach me?” Sigyn didn’t even know where to begin with that.

“Just to defend yourself with it,” he assured her, “I do not expect you to become a warrior such as Sif.”

“I would hope not,” Sigyn frowned, admitting, “as I do believe violence to be the last solution. I know as an Asgardian that makes me a heretic.”

“Your words are weapons, my dear Sigyn,” Loki continued to grin, his eyes sparkling, “you are just as fierce as any warrior, and dare I say, a lot more vicious.”

Sigyn’s mouth gapped just a little, at a loss for words, other than to say, “That is quite a compliment coming from you.”

“Yes, it is,” he wasn’t bashful. “Now, make room in your schedule, I will teach you what I can.”

“It is a great gift you give me,” she realized something and nearly kicked herself for taking so long to do so. The prince was the only one who could addle her so, “dare I ask what you wish in return?”

Loki frowned. “I don’t believe that’s how gifts work.”

“For normal people.” Sigyn smirked at him, did she have to say aloud that he always had an angle?

After a moment, Loki grinned again, a knowing kind of smile that he had been caught out. “Let’s just say… I get peace of mind.”

Sigyn looked at him sadly, she was going to say something, not entirely sure what, but the ferryman called out that he was about to leave and it was the last ferry for a while.

“I’ll contact you to set up training,” Loki backed off respectfully, “you get some rest, champion.”

“Oh please don’t give me another nickname.” Sigyn frowned as she tucked the dagger box under her arm.

“Good day, Serpent,” he winked, standing with a grin on his face and his arms behind his back.

Spouting a comeback would only lead to more banter and she would miss the ferry. With a shake of her head, Sigyn turned and walked away from the prince towards the skiff. 

Once she was on board and on her way back to the dormitory, Sigyn touched her neck, feeling the serpent battle honor where it was hidden under her coat and dress. She told herself she wore it for luck, just like regular soldiers wore their battle honors, but she knew that was partially a lie. 

She also kept telling herself that she wanted to keep Loki as a friend.

Loki, the man who always managed to slither his way into places he was best kept out of, such as her heart.

Perhaps Loki was in fact the Serpent… and she was the Liar?


	17. Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And Thank You! :)

Patience

Sigyn was walking down one of the promenades, enjoying the temperate night air. The sound of music bounced harmonically off the marble structure in front of her. Many others were milling about, chatting away. There was a light electricity in the air, it wasn’t often that the Vanir’s premiere troupe played shows in Asgard.

Only three shows to be exact. One of which being a private show for the Royal Family and the higher echelons of the court. The other two shows were difficult to get tickets for, most of the upper class and those of at least Master rank in their trade managed them. Sigyn was luckily able to secure a ticket, though she was sure it was pure luck that she had.

Bells sounded, indicating that those who had seats should make their way inside. The venue was quite large and while Sigyn’s seat wasn’t extremely close, it was a fair distance that allowed a good view of the whole stage. 

Others took their seats beside her, Sigyn giving a polite nod as they all got comfortable. When she glanced to her left, her smile died on her lips as she saw through the illusion. His name nearly fell from her lips but he smiled at her, touching a finger to his lips.

“What are you doing?” Sigyn managed to say quietly, leaning slightly into him, well, her.

Loki’s illusionary skills were quite masterful. He had a brilliant eye for the details.

It wasn’t just about creating a female form to mask himself. He took his own facial features and simply augmented them. Softening and sharpening the edges until he was distinctly female. Every strand of long black hair was given attention as they were done up in curls to drape his face. His makeup was just flawed enough to be realistically worn for hours. As for his body, he kept his height but his shape was also more feminine. Instead of going for something more ‘ideal’ with impossible curves, the body he gave himself was fit but by no means perfection. 

Loki was just pretty enough to draw the eye but natural enough to not be suspect. 

“Watching the performance,” he smiled and his voice came out in a higher timber than usual. 

“Haven’t you already seen it?” Sigyn asked knowing that the first performance the Vanir gave was specifically to the Royal Court.

“Yes,” he gave a bit of a frown, “but they always put on a _show_ for Royalty. No, I’d rather see them perform to a real audience.”

“I see.” Sigyn nodded, she could understand that the troupe might be more inclined to act differently in front of the king. They would give a more natural performance if they were not burdened by their audience. Still, that did not explain one thing. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Loki could have chosen many of disguises but at her question, he shrugged, “Why not like this?”

Sigyn had no argument for that, so she gave him an appreciative nod and turned her attention back to the stage where the troupe was about to begin.

The Vanir’s performance was multi-faceted. There was an overall play, a story that they told of a pauper rescuing a princess, but it was intermixed with lots of song, dance, and magic. Occasionally Loki made fit to comment about their use of magic, typically appreciative though he was ever quick to point out where he could have done better.

During the intermission, they stayed in their seats and chatted about the play. Loki was quite more knowledgeable in the arts than Sigyn had given him credit for. She supposed she should have known seeing that the man was a performer himself. But it was the fact he knew the names of techniques and schools of dance that surprised her the most.

“You are a fountain of knowledge,” Sigyn spoke appreciatively as the intermission was nearing its end.

“I am at that.” The prince was never one to be modest.

As others took their seats around them, there was a group of men who were watching them with much interest. 

Sigyn couldn’t help a small grin. “You have admirers.”

“Well, I would hope so,” there was no mistaking Loki’s self-congratulatory tone, even if it was a few octaves higher, “I put a lot of effort into this illusion.”

“It is one of your best,” Sigyn responded appreciatively.

“Yet,” he looked at her shrewdly, “you still knew it was me.”

“You have an extraordinary lack of grace.” She smirked.

His considered this for a moment, just long enough for the Vanir to start back up their performance. Before things truly got going, Loki learned forward and said, “One of these days...”

“You’ll have a long wait ahead of you,” she told him with a chuckle in the back of her throat.

“Good thing I’m a patient man then,” he replied.

All Sigyn did was laugh until those around her shushed her into silence.

…

Sigyn was walking down the hallway in an outer wing of the royal palace, tablet in hand. She just requested some documents from the land holding office to settle one of her tasks. Now she was returning to her post so she could review them.

There was a sound of shouting and items being knocked over and thrown to the ground. 

She started to turn to see what was happening, only to have Loki appear beside her. He was a bit out of breath and seemingly surprised to see her, nearly shouting her name, “Sigyn!”

“Loki?” She frowned at him.

“Loki!” Someone yelled from the end of the hallway. 

A group of men were stalking after the prince. Their faces were full of anger and their strides purposeful, but the scene was made comical by the fact that they were all different colors. Their clothes, their skin, their hair, they were all unnatural hues of reds, blues, greens, yellows, and purple. It wasn’t an illusion spell, it was something that permeated their very skin and clothing. 

“Lord Brago,” Loki managed a dignified greeting to the man who was completely yellow, “you look positively radiant today. Do something with your hair?”

“You!” The man stopped mere feet from them and pointed his finger accusingly at the prince. “You did this.”

“How?” Sigyn spoke the word so loudly that it surprised the Lord. It was possible he hadn’t seen her there. “The prince and I have been together since mid-meal.”

“You have?” Brago looked between them, rather confused.

“Yes,” Loki drew himself up and gave his best indignant expression, “she was asking my opinion on the land lease laws since, technically, all land in Asgard belongs to my father.”

Sigyn glanced down and saw that she still had the contract up she had been reviewing. The prince was light on his feet, but his ego still weighed heavy. “More like I gave a comment,” Sigyn added, “and he offered his unwanted opinion.”

Now it was Loki’s turn to give an indignant look, crunching his brow at her.

Lord Brago shook near violently. “Then who else could have done this?” 

“Someone with rudimentary skills,” Sigyn offered, ignoring the near inaudible protest from Loki, “it’s not that difficult of a spell.”

“Terrified any staff lately?” Loki said, turning his attention back to Brago.

It took a little more back and forth, but Brago stormed off in a huff. The man was sure it had been Loki but since Loki had an alibi, he was forced to concede. Loki was a prince after all, there wasn’t much the man could do if he had no evidence.

“Chromatic saturation?” Sigyn shook her head at Loki once they were alone. “That’s a child’s trick.”

“He was acting very childish,” Loki said as if that made everything okay.

All Sigyn could do was laugh and then sigh, “You’re impossible.”

“Yes,” he easily agreed. “Your assistance is appreciated, Sigyn. I didn’t even have to prompt or ask you.”

No, he hadn’t. Sigyn saw quickly what had transpired and she hadn’t even thought twice. “I told you Loki, I’m your friend. I’ll always protect you.”

“Is that so?” There was an odd twist to his smile.

“Unfortunately.” She gave him a frown that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

…

“Keep up back there,” Thor bellowed good naturedly to the group he led.

“I could fly us there faster,” Sigyn nearly grumbled as she stepped up the pace of the mare she was riding.

“Aye, cousin!” Fandral trotted up beside her, “But what would be in the fun in that?”

“I think we’re all more worried about Loki’s constitution,” Sif added with a chuckle.

“There is nothing wrong with my constitution,” Loki defended himself, “when one flies at a reasonable speed and countenance.”

“He means slow and steady,” Thor clarified with a grin, “like a wounded bildgesnipe.”

The group laughed at Loki’s expense, Sigyn covering her chuckle with her hand. The prince was not at all amused. He laughed but there was a tenseness in his eyes. 

A few moments later, Sigyn brought her mare up beside Loki. “You shouldn’t take it so personally,” she told him quietly so only he could hear.

“What are you blathering about?” he replied tersely.

“Everyone gets teased,” she rolled her eyes, “it’s a sign of affection, and you doll out just as much as the rest,” she explained, “yet when you receive it you take it as a black mark against you.”

Loki didn’t bother to reply, he simply tsked, kicking his horse so he shot forward and away from her. 

Sigyn didn’t take it personally. She had come to expect such things from Loki when he was around his brother and friends. It wasn’t that the others created a toxic environment, it was that Loki, for all his strength, was entirely too dependent upon their approval. 

Perhaps it was something he would grow out of, they were all still young.

…

While her cousin was the engineer, Sigyn knew her fair share about the technology behind her rudder system. If she couldn’t maintain and personalize her own controls, then she had no right to call herself a pilot.

The next Summer Solstice was getting close, so Sigyn had dedicated time in her schedule to do maintenance. She had the display open, a calibration tool attached to, the hologram showing the minute differences and levels. Tweaking the matrix slightly, she was satisfied for the time being. She’d likely need to do some more adjustments after the next test flight.

“Permission to board,” a familiar voice called up from the dock.

With a slightly confused expression, Sigyn called back, “Granted.”

Moments later, Loki came hopping onto the deck of her flyer. The vehicle was secure so there was no sway to tip his balance. He tried to hide the rather pleased expression on his face that he was still standing upright.

“And what brings you here, my prince?” Sigyn asked as she stood from where she was kneeling next to the rudder.

“I thought you might return a favor,” he replied with his usual grin.

Sigyn raised a questioning brow at him. “I don’t recall owing you one.”

“I have spent several hours teaching you how to defend yourself,” he clasped his hands behind his back, taking a more regal poise, “time I could spend in other pursuits.”

“You truly do not know how gifts work,” she threw his words back at him with a frown, crossing her arms.

“Yes, well,” he rocked slightly, “I think you’ll find this a fair trade.”

“From a gift, to a favor, to a trade,” Sigyn let out an exasperated breath, “you are impossible.”

“That I am,” he easily agreed with a smile. “Would you hear me out?”

Sigyn considered it for a moment, then gave in as she always likely would. “What is this favor you wish to trade?”

“An instruction for an instruction,” there was a winning tilt to his lips but his eyes showed a tint of vulnerability, “I taught you defense, you teach me how to fly.”

“To fly?” Sigyn didn’t know what to make of the request.

“I’ve had lessons, of course,” he continued, pacing just slightly and trying to make light of the situation, “but it’s hardly a precision skill for me, which, as a Prince, is a bit absurd.”

“Because a prince should be skilled in everything,” Sigyn offered even though she knew the truth. Loki was annoyed at being the subject of that particular joke. He wasn’t looking to become as skilled as herself, or Fandral, but enough so to prove that there was nothing wrong with his ‘constitution’.

“It is the part we play,” it was his turn to echo her.

Chewing on her lip, Sigyn didn’t even bother to hide her enjoyment at the small measure of power she had over him in that moment. His eyes slightly narrowed at the edges. 

“You’ll have to have patience,” she said after she dragged it out as long as she could, “it’s not a skill learned overnight.”

“Well,” he walked forward, slightly leaning into her, “if it were easy, anyone would do it.”

…

“Congratulations,” Sigyn gave Sven a hug, genuinely happy for her brother and his wife, Roa.

The family had been gathered to announce the impending arrival of the couple’s second child. Her father showed about as much joviality as his dour disposition would allow. Her younger brothers made up for their father in spades, getting into a drinking contest with Roa’s family. 

Roa’s mother was just as dour as Sigyn’s father. The woman turning her nose up at Sigyn because she continued to shun any possibility being a proper young maiden. By the woman’s count, Sigyn should have already had a child before Roa had her second. A proper lady also did not accent her clothing with snake skin leather. And as for racing… well… 

“Pay her no head,” Sven assured Sigyn as he found her ‘hiding’ in the kitchen under the pretense of preparing tea. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she pulled a kettle from the burner, “and I am glad you won’t either.”

“I know you better, dear sister,” he placed his hand on her shoulder, “and I worry for you.”

“You have much more important issues to spend your time fretting over.” Sigyn gestured to the other room where his first born was running around in circles.

“Aye,” he smiled at his son before turning back to her, “but I have noted you spend much of your free time with Prince Loki.”

“And cousin Fandral, and Lady Sif.” Sigyn frowned at him.

Sven wasn’t as articulate as she could be, it wasn’t a talent he was born with, so he took a moment to gauge his words. Eventually he just frowned. “I do not wish to insult you.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes. “I am not seeking a crown or title, dear brother, I spend time with him because I enjoy his company. We are friends and I know my place,” she laid her hands on his cheeks to comfort him, “you need not worry about my honor, I seek not the things that would impugn it.”

“I’m more worried about your physical safety than your honor,” he took her hands and held them in his own, “I was searching for you too, when you were lost to the Skathi.”

“Oh, Sven,” she gave her brother a hug, “please do not worry about me. I know the risks I take and I do not take them foolishly.”

As he hugged her back, Sigyn was suddenly struck with the question of when had she become the Liar? Was it when she insulted the King, numb to the truth in her heart? When she said she trusted Loki and his Realm-Walk spell? When she said she was happy to be betrothed to Theoric? Or perhaps when she met Loki Odison for the first time and told herself he was just a man like any other.

…

“Are you going to make your move?” Sigyn rested her head in the palm of her hand, leaning on the table.

“Patience, my dear Sigyn,” Loki responded near absently, his eyes focused on the hnefatafl board that sat between them.

“You?” Sigyn stifled a laugh. “Purporting patience?”

“Try not to cut yourself on the irony.” The prince smirked then moved his piece.

Sigyn chuckled and considered her next move. Loki was good, very good, she could understand why he had never lost a game.

“I’m surprised we haven’t done this before,” she commented, moving her own piece. 

They sat in the library, playing a round of hnefatafl. This particular game had gone on all morning and they were now passing mid-meal. A bottle of wine and tray of food had been brought to them so they could keep playing uninterrupted. At some point a group of spectators formed, watching the match in interest. Betting may have even been involved. 

“As I told you in the cave,” he spoke as he stared intently at the board, “I always win.”

“You haven’t yet,” she pointed out. 

He glanced up at her, his trademark grin near unsettling. But he said nothing, going back to the board, moving a piece. The game then continued for several more rounds, both of them putting their best strategies to use. In the end though, Sigyn stared down at the board with a deep frown.

“You won,” she managed to utter neutrally.

“I’d be happy to go again.” Loki took a sip of his wine. 

“I look forward to it,” Sigyn said as she reset the board, “but I think not tonight.”

“Of course.” He nodded and smiled at her.

Over the course of her time knowing the prince, she had discovered two very important aspects to his personality. 

For being a prince, he had very little regard for his own worth. Even though his magic was outstanding and his charm insurmountable, he seemed to believe himself unworthy. It was a ridiculous notion, of course, but it colored his every action. 

The second being that he wasn’t a very patient man. Even in his trickery and planning, he tended to be more reactive than anything.

But when he was patient… he was absolutely lethal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt Marvel/Disney will go through with genderfluid!Loki in the MCU, but I hope that we do get a Lady Loki in Ragnarok. I figure Loki can't spend all his time as Odin, especially if he wants to be subtle about whatever it is he's planning. He may have to dress down as a lower noble or commoner. Who would suspect a woman?


	18. Assumptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading!

Assumptions

There was a knock on Sigyn’s door as she was finishing up the first draft of a weregild settlement. Embla walked in with a polite smile on her face. “Sigyn, you’re not busy, are you?”

“Not terribly,” she saved her progress and collapsed the hologram, “what can I do for you?”

“I’d like your assistance on a task,” the woman said easily.

Sigyn had finally been able to work her way into a normal standing as a Journeyman. The Praetor was giving her proper tasks and Sigyn was even getting some requests from time to time. Nothing to make her stand out, she was not showing herself an expert in any particular area, but she was a solid Emissary who always did her due diligence. 

“I’d be happy to help,” Sigyn smiled graciously, for all she knew, this could be something very mediocre, “if I can.”

“I think a twenty-five time flyer champion would find this an easy question to answer,” Embla smirked, handing over a tablet. 

Twenty four more Summer Solstices had passed since she had won that first flyer race with her cousin. While the finish times had been pretty close in a few of the races, they had managed to win twenty-five in a row. It wasn’t a great feat, it’d been done before, but it was still enough to be noteworthy. Sigyn had turned her twenty-five golden tokens into a necklace while Fandral had put them on a chain for his belt.

“This is an acquisition?” Sigyn asked, quickly glancing through the details on the tablet.

“Yes,” Embla sat down in the only other chair in Sigyn’s post, “just a small transfer of property, but it includes a flyer, as you can see.”

Sigyn brought up the specs, reading over them carefully. “What is the issue?”

“I’m running my numbers off of the base market values,” the woman explained, “but the seller insists that the base value is not applicable in this case. Something about modifications and ‘broke in’ value.”

“Let me see.” Leaning back in her chair, Sigyn swiped through the images as they popped up, taking everything in. Eventually she was able to say, “I have to agree, this flyer, as used, is worth more than one brand new.”

“Really?” Embla raised a single eyebrow.

“The modifications he’s done, the hand tooling here,” she brought up images, “and here, does increase its value, it’s time and effort a serious flyer wouldn’t have to put into it.”

“But it’s used,” the other woman pursed her lips slightly.

“And the assumption is that it’s worn,” Sigyn nodded slightly, “but he obviously took very good care of this flyer, and like a good pair of boots, you want to wear in some of the parts to get them moving smooth and clean.”

“I see,” Embla leaned forward and took the tablet as Sigyn handed it back, “does all this match his asking price?”

“Probably overselling it by five percent,” she shrugged, “but he could sell it for that, yes, if he came across the right buyer.”

“Well then,” Embla smiled, “thank you for your assistance, you saved me some research.”

“Anytime.” Sigyn returned the smile. It wasn’t a big thing the woman had asked which in some ways made it better. It was good to know that her fellow Journeyman saw her as a resource.

“Oh, did you hear,” Embla stopped from walking out, “the Princes and the Warriors have returned from aiding Vanaheim.”

“No, I hadn’t. I suppose there will be much feasting tonight,” Sigyn chuckled, if there was one thing Asgardians could do better than fighting, it was feasting.

“I’ve been seeing one of the guardsmen in the detachment that went with them,” Embla said casually and Sigyn was a bit confused and suspicious of the woman’s sudden openness, “it was good to see him return,” Embla immediately frowned, “I’m sorry, that was insensitive.”

“Never be sorry for being happy,” Sigyn assured the woman drolly, “but your concern for my emotional wellbeing is appreciated.”

“I only mentioned because we’ll be at the feast tonight,” Embla smoothly ignored the awkwardness, “I thought I might be seeing you there.”

Sigyn furrowed her brow. “Why would I be there?”

Embla echoed her confused expression. “For Prince Loki, of course.”

“I’m sure the prince can celebrate his return quite well without me,” Sigyn spoke with a bit of a laugh. The younger prince may be generally more calm and restrained than his brother, but he knew how to light up a room.

“But…” Embla continued to frown, “aren’t you and him…”

“Me and him what?” Sigyn tilted her head, not understanding the woman’s inference.

Embla cleared her throat and straighten up, the woman was a good Emissary but she couldn’t seem to hold such pose in her personal conversations. “I was under the impression that you were Loki’s mistress.”

Sigyn stared blankly at the woman. “Mistress?”

“Yes.” Embla gave an awkward smile. 

“Embla, you’re an incredibly bright woman,” Sigyn couldn’t process all the emotions she was having so she focused on indignation, “so what would give you such a ridiculous idea?”

“You do spend an awful lot of time with him,” the woman pointed out, then said delicately, “which, let’s be fair, is not typical considering your standing.”

“I spend time with him because he is my _friend_ ,” she couldn’t help a little flare of angry that she kept tapered, “and my standing should not be an issue because friendships aren’t supposed to work that way.”

“I meant no disrespect,” Embla seemed genuinely remorseful, but perhaps only in that she had been so sure about Sigyn’s relationship with Loki.

“I don’t believe you did,” Sigyn admitted, not willing to make the woman an enemy over something so trifle, however, “but I still wear the mourning shawl at events, did that escape unnoticed?”

“Of course not,” Embla said sheeply, “but I thought it was just a cover.”

“A cover?” Sigyn was rethinking her decision to remain gracious. “You think I would do that to Theoric’s memory?”

“Come on, Sigyn,” the woman went a little defensive, “you never married him, and it was an arranged marriage, such faithfulness is a tad absurd.” 

Sigyn willed a neutral expression to stay on her face, but there was no hiding the fury in her eyes, “I made Theoric a promise of fidelity, one which I never broke and would never have broken should he have returned to me. If you think that taking such a promise with all the seriousness and dignity that it deserves to be absurd, then that is a question of your own principles. But do not question mine.”

…

The incident with Embla left Sigyn unsettled for the rest of the day, especially when she discovered that near everyone in the emissary offices also believed the rumor. It was apparently very prevalent but she had missed it until then.

When she arrived at the Library for what was supposed to be another combat lesson, she wore her emotions on her face.

Between Loki’s work as a Prince and Sigyn’s as an Emissary, they hadn’t progressed as fast as one might have hoped. Especially now that she was also giving him flying lessons. But Loki was a remarkably good teacher, no doubt in part due to his ego, and Sigyn had learned several moves for disarming attacks. Most of what she had learned was defensive for while Loki was more than willing to show her more advanced offensive tactics, Sigyn had no desire to become a warrior. 

As she walked up to him, Loki did not question her even though his eyes were narrow and judging. He saw she was more furious than upset and so he seemingly planned his lesson accordingly.

“Form Eight, I should think,” he said by way of greeting. 

“Form Eight,” she replied, not bothering to unsheathe her dagger. 

This particular move was to be done in case of not having a weapon readily available. It was also the closest to an offensive attack as she had allowed herself to be taught.

Loki disappeared in a shimmer of green light and Sigyn started to look around for him, trying to see him before he could attack her. Preventing the attacker from laying a hand on her was preferred, Form Eight was perfect for when that wasn’t an option. But unfortunately, as much as she was able to see through his illusions, when he went invisible, it took a keener eye than she had yet developed. 

Two strong arms grabbed her from behind, wrapping around her midsection. With what was becoming instinct, Sigyn kicked back against his shin and knee, hitting at hard as she could. There was a hiss from his lips that were improperly close to her ear, but he had known the blow was coming. He acted as though he was surprised, losing his grip around her just enough for Sigyn to throw her elbow back against his chest. 

Again, he knew the blow was coming so while it struck true he was able to take the brunt of it by leaning with it. He released his grasp around her as if he had received the full blow and she spun on the balls of her feet. First she threw her arm around to strike her ‘assailant’ in the throat, then kept spinning to use inertia to drive her elbow against his chest. 

Instead of actually hitting those spots, Loki, knowing what was to happen, held his hands up where she should strike to catch her blows. 

“Well done,” he smiled at her, rubbing his palm into his chest, “you struck considerably harder this time. I’ve said you need to put more force into your punches.”

“I understand violence’s necessity,” she was breathing heavy, and not just from the exertion of the exercise, “but I utterly deplore it.”

“Be careful, my dear Sigyn,” he gave that charming grin of his, “you’re sounding like a heretic again.”

She knew he was joking but she had had enough that day, too many emotions were swimming in her head. “Then have me beheaded,” and with those words she started to storm off.

“Sigyn,” Loki called after her, “Sigyn, wait,” he grabbed her by the arm to stop her, “I only meant—”

Taking what she had been taught, Sigyn spun around, striking his arm at the elbow with her palm. He let go and she continued her twirl which sent her around to be able to drive the elbow of her arm into his back, just under the shoulder blade, as he had been standing sideways.

He stumbled forward from the blow, taken completely unawares.

Sigyn realized what she had done, struck a Prince of Asgard outside of training, and the blood drained from her body. “I’m sorry.”

Loki chuckled, “Don’t be,” he turned to face her, his grin wide and devilish, “I’m impressed, and rather pleased with myself, I trained you well.”

“I proclaim no love for violence,” Sigyn sighed, rubbing her head as it started to ache, “and in the next moment I commit violence against a member of the Royal Family of Asgard. I truly am a heretic.”

“You’re upset, Sigyn,” he said softly, though the words played on his lips, “all is forgiven.”

Sigyn frowned at the man. “You forgive me? You laid your hands on me unwantedly.”

“And you defended yourself beautifully,” he skirted around the point, though she had no heart to argue it with him. They were friends, she was storming away, could she really say his reaction wasn’t completely uncalled for?

“I think,” Sigyn sighed, “that perhaps we should forgo the lessons for today.”

“If you wish,” he eyed her curiously, “but whatever has upset you will still remain.”

Sigyn judged him for a moment, wondering how much he knew about such idle gossip. It would be beneath him, and beneath her, but it riled her so. “There are some who have come to the preposterous assumption that I am your mistress.”

Whatever he had expected her to say, that apparently wasn’t it. Loki actually managed to look at a loss, his eyes blinking rapidly a few times, then he creased his brow and said, “I feel I should be insulted.”

“Excuse me?” she nearly squeaked.

“You think the assumption preposterous?” he started to pout a little. “I know I’m not blonde and broad like my brother, but I thought I had a certain amount of… charm.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible not to like,” he corrected her with a chuckle, “but yes, I had heard something to that effect. I thought it just a passing rumor. The perils of being a prince, you see. One can’t look twice at anyone, or anything, without the suspect of romance.”

“Then let us hope it is a rumor that does pass,” she sighed, rubbing her head again. “You’re not doing anything to perpetuate it, I hope.”

“Of course not,” he seemed a tad offended, then shrugged, “but I’ve done nothing to dissuade it either. Perhaps I should do something about that…”

“No,” this was the only thing Sigyn was sure of at the moment. “You will carry on as normal, we both will. We will not let silly rumors dictate what we do.”

The prince smiled appreciatively at her. “Of course we won’t.”

She gave a slight nod, agreeing with him that it was best to just continue as normal and let the rumor die a natural death. It still galled her though, that others thought of her in such a way, that they took her fidelity towards Theoric’s spirit so flippantly. 

Her detractors could call her many things… but if Sigyn was anything, she was always faithful.


	19. Absolution

Absolution

There was a rather distinctive crack, followed by a thump, then shouts of laughter.

Sigyn continued to drink her mead, watching the events with interest. Another body went flying out an open window and Sigyn chuckled. While violence as a form of diplomacy was, to her mind, to be taken in measure… Sigyn did enjoy watching a good bar brawl.

It was the beginning of the Summer Solstice, and Sigyn would be attempting her thirtieth win as pilot of her flyer. The race was in two days and tomorrow her cousin would be resting and preparing, but today, there was much drink and merriment. Fandral, Sif, and Volstagg were currently in the middle of taking on what seemed like an entire company of men from the guard.

The guards had the audacity to claim that flying wasn’t a true test of skill or combat. 

The warriors of course had no problems taking out the guards, many of them ending up being flung outside. Sif was immensely fond of tossing her attackers through the windows to clear the way for the next. 

Sigyn wasn’t particularly apt to put her new fighting skills to test, but she would occasionally throw out an illusion or two to confuse or trick a guardsman. This kept the warriors from being overpowered by sheer numbers and she got a nod of thanks from each of them at one point during the fight. They were used to Loki doing similar, but both princes were going to miss this Solstice due to obligations that sent them off world with their father.

Once the fight was over, the warriors refilled their mugs and settled in for a night of drinking. Firstly they spent time recounting the very fight they just participated in, then they followed that up with more drinking. Fandral found himself with something of a harem of women. Volstagg’s kids were running about. This left Sigyn and Sif at a table to themselves, watching the festivities.

“Thirty races,” Sif raised her drink, “may the Valkyries carry you on swift winds.”

“Think they will if I ask them nicely?” Sigyn chuckled, clinking her mug against Sif’s.

They chatted for a time, Sigyn noticing some of the looks they were getting from the guards who had returned to the pub, licking their wounds and downing their drinks. 

“Half of these men want to fight you again,” Sigyn commented, “the other half look to want to bed you.”

“They are vile,” the woman curled her nose up, “they either can’t stand the fact that I could beat them, or they feel it is a prize to have me. I’m nothing but a conquest to the lot of them.”

Sigyn glanced at the guards, seeing the particular inflections in their faces. “We are not objects, but they often treat us as such.”

“Indeed,” she replied with disgust, then a curious tint befell her features, “is that why you continue to ‘mourn’ Theoric? To keep the jackals at bay?”

“I hardly think many of the jackals would find me so enticing,” Sigyn admitted, deflecting the emotions that bubbled up at the other woman’s words.

“I think you would be surprised,” Sif chuckled conspiratorially, “I have heard talk.”

“Words are so much easier to carry than deeds,” Sigyn reminded her. 

“Perhaps,” the warrior grinned, “or are the rumors true? Do you have a dalliance with the younger prince?”

Sigyn couldn’t help a sigh of annoyance, “I have no more of a dalliance with Loki than you have with Thor.”

Referencing the unrequited love Sif had for the older prince was a bit of a low blow, and she gave the woman an apologetic frown.

“They why do you still mourn?” Sif stoically moved on. “You were not even married, your faithfulness to his memory is starting to border on psychosis.”

“Why do others seem to think they know my mental state better than I do?” Sigyn’s frown fell into indignation. 

“Because you’re an odd one, Sigyn,” Sif replied without thinking, “but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Sigyn sighed and laid her head in her hand, she was well aware of what others thought of her. “I have my reasons.”

“I’m sure you do,” Sif sipped at her drink, “but I don’t understand them.”

Starring down into the abyss of her own mug, Sigyn took in a long deep breath before letting it out. “I am waiting to be absolved.”

“Absolved of what?” her friend frowned.

“My guilt, of course.” Sigyn took a long draft of her mead. “I murdered Theoric,” she mumbled as she wiped her chin, “or I might as well have.”

“What?” Sif looked at her with the oddest expression of disbelief. 

“I killed my betrothed,” she replied quietly, hating the words on her lips but being strangely comforted by them being spoke out loud.

“Theoric was felled by Kree,” Sif pointed out, “and I’m pretty sure you had nothing to do with the communications issue that led them there.”

Sigyn was near tears, finally speaking words she had buried deep. “I know Theoric felt overwhelmed by me,” she admitted, voice lightly trembling, “that I had more favor than him, what with my friendships with the princes and my piloting and… and he may have felt the need to prove himself.”

“Theoric saved the lives of over a dozen men,” Sif pointed out with a slight edge to her voice, “I don’t think he did that because he felt emasculated, because trust me, I’ve emasculated enough of these lesser men to know.”

“Theoric was a brave and noble man, yes,” Sigyn felt all manner of emotions at once, “but he was not foolhardy. He always went for the smart tactical win, he wasn’t before interested in such glory.”

“You think he could have found another way?” Sif questioned her.

“I hope that there wasn’t,” her voice was raw, “but I fear that there was.”

There was a long silence before her friend asked, “What aren’t you telling me, Sigyn?”

Would she feel better finally saying it out loud? She supposed she’d find out. “When I heard that Theoric had been felled… I was… relieved.”

“Relieved?” Sif’s words were neutral, almost as if she wasn’t surprised at Sigyn’s words.

“I would have been the best wife I possibly could to Theoric,” emotions came pouring out of her, “but I never would have been happy, truly happy and whole. I was never meant to be a soldier’s wife.”

Shame and guilt dragged her down and she buried her head in both her hands, trying to keep herself from crying and attracting attention. But at the same time, finally admitting her feelings out loud lifted a weight off of her heart. Sigyn was a confused mirage of conflicting emotions.

“Mourning Theoric is your penitence,” Sif spoke softly, “you seek absolution.”

“How can one ever be absolved for being glad another is dead,” Sigyn sighed into her hands, “especially when that person has done nothing to deserve it.”

“Your feelings of guilt are both noble and idiotic,” Sif tutted at her. “You’re not glad he’s dead, you’re glad you’re out of a position that you never wanted to be in in the first place. Is it a tragedy that he’s gone, yes, but it’s given you a new life. Don’t you think he’d want you to be happy?”

Sigyn continued to shrink where she sat, trying not to feel numb while at the same not trying to feel everything that swam through her head. 

“You can mourn Theoric for the rest of your life if you wish,” her friend had leaned in, her words soft, “but not with your whole self, you must live your life.”

“And what would I tell him?” Sigyn asked, lifting her head slightly. “When I see him, in Valhalla, what would I tell him?”

“The truth,” Sif gave her a sorrowful smile, “and he will be happy for you, as long as you are happy with yourself.”

…

Sigyn was grinning widely, her face freezing, but she couldn’t be happier.

“Haha!” Fandral shouted as he jumped off the bow into the flyer proper. They didn’t need to see their time, they knew they had done it. 

“Thirty wins, cousin!” Sigyn laughed, it was a milestone she never thought she would have reached.

When they landed the flyer, many of the other teams had come to congratulate them. Sigyn had found many of them more accepting. This was mostly because they could no longer argue that there was nothing but luck involved or that Fandral was carrying the team. 

Before heading to the feast, Sigyn slipped into their prep tent to put away her gloves and racing coat. She also made sure her battle honor was tucked safely out of sight under her dress. Lying across a chair was her mourning shawl and as she went to pick it up, she paused.

Sif was right, Sigyn was seeking an absolution she would never have, for crimes she did not commit. 

But Theoric was still dead and she was happier for it.

…

“What are you reading?”

Sigyn’s head popped up, she again hadn’t heard the door to the alcove open. She wouldn’t have put it past the prince to have used some kind of sonic dampening spell.

“Just a little bit about Hel,” she answered, leaning the book up enough so he could see the decorative title.

“Thinking of taking a visit?” Loki replied cheekily.

“Perhaps,” Sigyn tilted her head, “there is apparently no weather.”

“Sounds enticing,” he leaned up against the far wall. 

“You’re not very fond of the weather, are you,” Sigyn smirked. 

“Not overly.” That caused the prince to frown, it was no secret that Loki found his brother’s antics with thunder and rain to be pompous, on a good day. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Are they?” Sigyn frowned and closed the book she was reading.

“You won your thirtieth race,” there was a measure of smugness in his voice, “I had no doubts, it’s a shame though I wasn’t there to see it.”

“Your presence would have made no difference,” she replied dryly, then grinned, “but I’m sure you’ll catch the next one.”

“I’m sure.” Loki nodded.

The two of them simply stared at each other, the conversation having died but Sigyn could tell there were words on Loki’s lips. She could take pity on him, broach the subject, but it was nice to see the master of manipulation squirm a bit. He needed a good settling, from time to time.

“At the Winter Solstice,” Loki straightened up and headed towards the door, “I’ll be expecting that dance you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you a dance,” Sigyn replied defiantly, though it was more fanciful than forceful.

“Of course you do,” he said as if there was no discussion, then swiftly let himself out.

Sigyn wondered who told Loki that she didn’t wear her mourning shawl at the feast a few days previous. That she even enjoyed a dance or two with some brave souls. Or really, who was the first to tell him as she knew her actions had created much of a stir. 

Did this mean the rumored relationship was over? Was there ever one to begin with? 

They could gossip all they wanted, Sigyn would not play into that game. 

No, Sigyn still felt guilt for her sins, and she would seek absolution when she reached Valhalla. Until then, she could not let them rule her life, after all, she was sure there would be many more sins yet to come.


	20. The Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading!

The Dance

The season passed at what seemed like a normal pace and Sigyn found herself as busy as ever. Tasks were coming in regularly, she was receiving a fair amount of requests for weregild settlements. She had gained a bit of a reputation for being quite fair in making her decisions and never let herself even come close to being bribed or influenced.

All her time spent around Loki had made her paranoid of word phrasing and adapt at seeing through lies.

The prince came and went in her life. His responsibilities had increased but sometimes he’d pop into her post for a chat, or they would manage to be in the library at the same time. This did nothing to help squash the rumor of her relationship with Loki being more than platonic. Even with her out of mourning the whispers continued. At the events she attended, she would get a few dance requests, but none had yet dared to make any further courtship advances.

This didn’t really bother Sigyn. She had spent many years betrothed, her life settled and planned, so she enjoyed what passed as freedom. 

When the winter solstice neared, she found herself floating strangely between dread and anticipation. Loki had said no other word about his dance request, not during their lessons or games. She honestly had no idea how to interpret this. 

On the last day of the Winter Solstice, Sigyn dressed in a two toned blue dress, the sleeves made of snake leather and the cuffs cut to mimic that of a serpent’s head. Her hair was up in a braided bun except for a few curls let loose. There was no telling what the night would bring so she took a deep breath and headed to the ballroom that a person of her stature would attend.

Again, she probably could have made her way into the King’s Winter Ball but she would not abuse her few privileges. She would also not undo everything she had worked towards in securing herself a place amongst her fellow Journeyman Emissaries. And there was also the fact that the only reason the princes might come to the Journeyman ball was because of her, a fact not lost on the others and that helped her reputation.

True to form, later into the evening, Thor, the Warriors Three, Sif, and of course, Loki, came into the ballroom with an eruption of laughs and hollers. They were greeted by the same men who wanted yet another rematch of the drinking contest, only they knew they would lose again but that wasn’t the point.

Sigyn was on the dance floor when she heard their arrival, having been asked by one of the Journeyman Administrators. He seemed like a rather polite fellow, if a bit boorish, but with fairly good rhythm.

The waltz ended and he led her off the floor, bowing before taking his leave. She debated what to do next but found Embla standing next to her, smirking slightly.

“They only come here for you,” Embla gestured towards the ruckus at the end of the room, “everyone knows this.”

“They come here for the mead,” Sigyn replied wryly, even though she knew it was truth, “for they have drunk their own stores dry this night.”

“And Loki is just a friend?” the woman’s words were a mock of a question. 

“Apparently Loki and I are the only ones who believe this.” Sigyn didn’t bother holding back her eye roll. 

“You mourn no longer.” Embla gestured to her clothing.

“And I am free, as you have been so forward in pointing out,” Sigyn let a little smile cross her lips, “so why would I want to shackle myself again?”

“I dunno,” she leaned forward conspiratorially, “I wouldn’t mind being shackled to either prince.”

“Embla!” Sigyn was grinning despite herself, holding back a chuckle. “What would your beau think?”

“I don’t think I’d care.” Embla winked, giving a little laugh. 

It was at that moment a figure approached them and Sigyn turned, expecting to see Loki. Instead, it was an apprentice to one of the War Councilors. 

“Apprentice Councilor Bjarte Calderson,” he introduced himself. 

“Journeyman Emissary Sigyn,” she returned the introduction. 

“Journeyman Emissary Embla Lortedotter,” Embla added with a cheekiness to her tone.

“I was hoping to share the next dance with you.” Bjarte performed a slight curtesy towards Sigyn.

“I’d be delighted.” Sigyn returned the curtesy and took Bjarte’s hand to be led onto the dance floor.

They reached the main part of the floor just in time for the music to strike up again. Bjarte took her into a respectable dance hold and they proceeded to follow the steps. 

“You know,” Bjarte started up the conversation, “I was there that day.”

“What day would that be?” Sigyn asked politely, his words making her a little caged. 

“When you stormed the trade council and told them all what’s for,” Bjarte chuckled lightly. 

“I snuck in,” she corrected him.

“Sorry?” He tried not to frown.

“I didn’t storm in,” Sigyn explained as she considered the situation, “I tricked my way into the room and onto the center dais. Then I started shouting.”

“The shouting I definitely do remember.” Bjarte smiled at her.

“I am sure you do,” she gave him a soft smile, “but I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”

“I was apprentice to Master Councilor Potr,” he explained which was exactly what she wanted him to do. 

“How long ago did you remove yourself from the Trade Council,” she tried to sound disinterested, “and throw your lot in with the War Council?”

“Last Winter Solstice,” Bjarte answered right before giving her a small spin as part of the dance.

They danced for a few more moments, Bjarte having fairly good rhythm. Occasionally she would be able to see the Prince’s party in her line of sight. While her cousin, Sif, and even Thor had once looked in her direction, never did she see anything more than the back of Loki’s head.

She considered herself silly for caring. 

“You can ask your question,” Sigyn finally said to Bjarte.

“What question?” The man needed to work on controlling his reactions, he played that off pitifully.

“Please, Bjarte,” she smiled respectively for the sake of those who might be watching, “do not insult me by thinking I am a fool.”

“I…” he started, then he saw the look on her face and realized quickly it was best not to try to test her, “are the rumors true? You and Prince Loki?”

“Are friends,” she sighed, “you do not have to worry about him being jealous and reacting.”

“Well,” Bjarte chuckled, “that’s a relief.”

“But you risked it anyway,” she gave him a dry look, “are you that ambitious?”

“Ambitious?” he said the word as if he didn’t know what it meant but his eyes couldn’t hide the truth.

“The Apprentice Councilor,” Sigyn spun the tail, “what gumption he must have to dare ask the Prince’s supposed mistress out onto the dance floor as the Prince watches on. Sound about right?”

Bjarte looked as if he was going to deny it, then gave a guilty expression. “If it makes you feel any better, I honestly didn’t believe the rumors in the first place.”

“No, it doesn’t,” the music was coming to an end, “but you’ve had your dance, Bjarte, don’t ever attempt something like this with me again.”

“Will you sic your _friend_ on me?” he stifled a laugh.

“No,” she replied sweetly, “because it would be much more fun and satisfying to destroy you myself.”

Bjarte must have thought she was teasing him, but he looked in her eyes and saw no mirth. With a bit of a startled expression, he nodded and bowed, then led her off the dance floor. He was gone as quickly as he could reasonably do so without looking like an idiot. 

Is this what she was to become? A prop? 

Sigyn waited just long enough to be reasonable and headed over to the group of Warriors. Thor, Sif, and Volstag were sparing against others in a drinking contest. Fandral had found himself several ladies to entertain. Loki and Hogun were chatting with others, discussing more sensible things more likely.

“Ah, Sigyn!” Thor bellowed after he threw an empty mug over his shoulder. “How is the Serpent of Asgard fairing this fine Solstice evening?”

“Feeling rather venomous actually,” she surprised herself by saying, “but that could just be the mead.”

That was met with a generous amount of mirth. Sigyn allowed herself a few moments of mingling with the group, but her evening had soured.

“My dear cousin,” she turned to Fandral who tore his attention away from one of the ladies, “it’s gotten late, and I have much to do tomorrow, would you mind escorting me back to my dorm?”

Fandral was as horrified as he was annoyed, though he tried to hide his emotions behind a lark of a laugh.

“I’m sure,” she added, knowing her cousin well, “some of my fellow Journeymen would also find comfort in being escorted this late at night.”

“Comforting indeed,” one of the women quickly said, catching onto the double meaning.

“Oh, yes,” Fandral only took a second longer to see it, “what kind of warrior would I be if I didn’t ensure these lovely ladies returned home safely to their domiciles.” 

Thor and Volstag laughed while Sif and Hogun were shaking their heads, not being terribly surprised. Loki was chuckling in his bemused way, but she could see the questioning in his eyes. She had gathered that, to avoid speculation, he would wait a bit before asking her to dance, if he even remembered. 

If he had remembered, he knew that Sigyn was not one to forget. 

Her best escape was with her cousin and several of her fellow Journeymen and Apprentices. It was perhaps cowardly of her, but Sigyn had had enough of… well… everything.

It wasn’t long later that she was back at her room, saying her goodnights to Fandral who walked off with no less than four girls on his arms. 

Once she was alone, Sigyn chastised herself for being so silly about the whole situation. 

Yes, Loki was as charming as he was handsome, but as much as he was her friend, he was also a liar and a manipulator. She would be better served not getting herself involved with him, it was courting trouble.

Tempting… but still trouble.

…

Two days later, Sigyn was sitting in one of the many rooms in the library, this time researching her next task. She had three books open and a holographic display going. It was a complicated argument over some legal technicalities, a job really more suited for a Master. She was honestly considering kicking it up to one of them. A lot of Journeyman wouldn’t do that, it would make them appear weaker, but Sigyn didn’t see it that way.

It took strength to admit you are not the best suited for a task.

“That looks trifle.” Loki appeared from seemingly nowhere, running his hand through the display, putting everything out of order.

“Loki,” she sighed tiredly, “please don’t do that.”

The prince was not an idiot, he could hear the tone in her voice that she didn’t even bother attempt hiding. He leaned on the desk, nearly sitting on it as his height made it easy to do so. “What’s wrong, my dear Sigyn? Is there someone I need to have a… talk with?”

“I’m quite capable of my own defense, you know this,” Sigyn bristled as she tried to reorganize the display, “and violence is not the answer to every slight received.”

“So you were slighted,” he replied as he judged and scrutinized her.

“And retained my honor,” she told him pointedly, “so please let us move on to other topics.”

“Very well,” he stood from the desk, placing his hands on the edge and leaning closer towards her, “we never did have that dance.”

She knew he would not forget such things. “As well we didn’t.”

“Ignore the rumor mongers,” the prince dismissed her words, “what is a dance among friends?”

“Nothing on the surface,” Sigyn admitted, putting resolve into her voice, “but Loki, please heed my words, we are friends, if you are wanting something more, you will be disappointed.”

Loki gauged her for a moment and she could not read his eyes. His lips had drawn into a straight line and he was so still she wondered if he had stopped breathing. Then he grinned, “Of course I want more, my dear Sigyn, who doesn’t? Why at this very moment I want to make sure I get to the feasting hall before Volstagg. I hear the cook has made rice pudding with Vanir spices. I want to have a generous helping before that big oaf eats it all.”

“Do not mock me,” Sigyn replied with sharpness.

“Then don’t make yourself so easily mocked,” was his retort as he stood to his full height. “And don’t make assumptions, they are beneath you.”

With that, the prince turned sharply on his heels and left the room. Sigyn was left tired and confused. 

How could she be simultaneously vindicated and devastated at the same time?


	21. Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have mentioned this at the beginning, but here are some things about my universe:
> 
> 1\. Magic - While I love reading the fan fics where magic is this inherent and mystical thing... I'm going for MCU here and it seems like they follow the "advanced forms of technology=magic" school of thought. And Loki traditionally is not just the trickster god, but also the god of science (as the Norse knew it at least). So their magic is basically really advanced physics. (And I totally missed this question in Ninny's comment, my bad, sorry!)
> 
> 2\. Time - I'm not sure how time passes in Asgard or how they think of years. I know Loki says 5,000 years but that could be translated/converted via the AllSpeak for all we know. Also, they live for that long, so several decades to us is like a few months to them I would imagine. So I'm going with 'solstices' which I doubt are an exact Earth year. Basically I think these guys were the "earth equivalent" of 15/16ish in the cave and Loki is like 17/18 in the first film. Somewhere in there... it's not an exact science as these guys are already hundreds of years old by now... yet so young comparatively... 
> 
> If there is anything I need to clarify, please let me know!  
> Thanks for reading!

Friendship

Fandral had absconded with the chamber maids, all three of them.

Sif was running across the courtyard, Thor’s red cape in hand. 

Volstagg was passed out cold under the banquet table.

Thor was on the roof, lightning seemed to be involved.

Hogun was locked in the larder.

And Loki was in the moat.

Sigyn wasn’t entirely unsure how he got there, he may have been pushed off the roof.

In all honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure how _any_ of this had happened.

“Emissary?” The man next to her was entirely unamused at the sleeping form of the large warrior. “Is this typical Asgardian behavior?”

Taking a deep breath, Sigyn allowed herself a moment to clear her thoughts. She really wasn’t even supposed to be there, these antics shouldn’t have happened, but now she was the last bastion of sanity in the whole mess.

The two princes had been sent to a small world in the Midgardian realm to oversee a trade agreement that was to be was renewed. The planet needed specific minerals and Asgard was happy to supply them for a reasonable barter. Both sides had been well pleased with the agreement as it stood and so this was to be an exercise in diplomacy for the future king and his brother. Something simple and easy that they should be able to take care of themselves.

Still, they needed an Emissary to come along and handle the paperwork. It should have been a Master Emissary, but Sigyn was asked for specifically by Thor. Loki’s doing no doubt.

The entire trip devolved into theatrics… likely also Loki’s doing.

Drawing her shoulders square, Sigyn smiled and turned towards the trade officials who were frowning and confused. 

This was going to be a very long day…

…

“You thought this behavior acceptable of those who would be kings?” Odin chastised his children as the Warrior’s Three, Sif, and Sigyn also stood with bowed heads.

“Of course not, father,” Thor responded with the appropriate amount of humiliation. 

Loki said nothing. Sigyn surmised that it was a calculated move to keep their father’s attention on the older prince. While it could not be proven, everyone knew Loki was to blame for what happened. He may not have intended the outcome, but he set the ball rolling without care of what it might hit. 

After a few more minutes of scolding, the king dismissed the group without punishment. It was, however, made very clear that such things were not expected to occur in the future.

The warriors headed straight for the tavern they enjoyed frequenting, licking their wounds. Sigyn would have rather left them to their own rituals, but was dragged along by her cousin who was so ever so grateful at least one of them had sense enough keep a level head. 

All Sigyn did was distract the trade officials until Thor came down from the roof. The older prince, for as hot headed as he could be, wasn’t inept towards his duties. Once he realized the situation, he squared himself away and followed her lead to get things back on track. Much like her flyer, herding politicians was actually rather easy, it just took a gentle touch. 

Now she stared tiredly down into her mug of mead, taking long, measured breaths. To others she might be contemplating the great mysterious of the universe, but in truth, her mind was completely blank.

“You did well.” Loki sat himself across from her with his own mug, his bearing that of one relaxed and carefree.

“You fell into the moat,” she countered, she did not feel up to being mocked or playing his games. 

“And none too gracefully,” Loki admitted with a touch of lark.

“You make it difficult to be your friend,” Sigyn admitted with a sigh, finally looking up at him to see his always thoughtful, scheming smile. They hadn’t exactly left off on good terms after the Winter Solstice. She also didn’t appreciate his recent manipulations of Thor to choose her for his trip. Even if it was a boon to get a task from a member of the Royal Family, it bordered on favoritism and did neither of them any good.

“But I’m still your friend,” Loki pointed out as if the Solstice incident and recent events had never occurred.

Sigyn watched him as the noise of the room thrummed through her. She wanted to shout at him, demand an apology she knew he would never give. She knew Loki all too well, repentance wasn’t in his nature.

“I am your friend,” she finally spoke the unfortunate truth. She always would be his friend, always protect him, Valhalla help her.

“Now that that’s settled,” he again smiled, this one possibly genuine without that touch of snark or innuendo, “would you mind assisting me four days hence in the Library.”

“Assist you?” Sigyn frowned. “Are you going to try the Realm-Walk again?”

“That’s been put on indefinitely hold,” Loki admitted with a frown, it was starting to become a sore subject with him. “No, I have to entertain some Truloug delegates.”

Sigyn raised a brow. “You’re not going to abandon them with me?” 

“Of course not,” he assured her, then admitted, “not so soon after this fiasco.”

“Honesty,” she replied dryly, “how refreshing.”

Loki grinned, a light laugh in the back of his throat, “I simply need someone to help wrangle them. Your gifts of both magic and politics make you the obvious choice.”

“Very well,” she took the compliment for what it was, this was his way of mending the rift, “but if you do abandon them on me, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.”

“That almost sounds like a challenge,” he laughed again, but for the life of her it sounded far too genuine. It was a highly appealing sound.

“Consider it a warning,” she clarified, unable to stop the smirk that came to her lips.

…

Sigyn found herself in the Royal Library on schedule. Loki had told her the general idea of what he wanted to do, the magic he wished to perform, and she agreed that most all of it was not only acceptable but rather fitting and entertaining.

Loki was a performer, he loved having an audience, especially one which might actually stare at him in wonder. 

Right on time she could hear him speaking in that regal tone he would adopt in moments such as this. One would think he was practicing to be king even though that’s not exactly how a monarchy works. However, the King had sometimes spoken of them both as future kings, so perhaps they might each rule at different times. Sigyn could see both brothers not wanting to spend four thousand years as the ruler of Asgard. 

They’d both get bored for two entirely different reasons.

“And may I present Sigyn, the Serpent of Asgard,” Loki introduce her when the group came into the lecture hall Loki was fond of using.

Introductions were made and they proceeded with their demonstration. The Truloug were a more recent space faring race, only about six hundred years or so. Their technology was advanced but they didn’t seem to understand that there is art in science and science in art. 

Loki and Sigyn performed several hard light illusions, using nano-tech to augment several classic spells. This kept the delegates happy while the Truloug leader was in conferences with King Odin. The display lasted only a couple of hours and then the delegates were ushered off to evening meal which was to be yet another great feast.

“You truly have been working on your sonic resonance,” Loki said as he came up beside her.

“One never knows when they may find themselves stuck in a cave with an unconscious prince,” she couldn’t help but reply. 

“One never knows,” he agreed with a grin, then waved towards the departing delegates. “Are you coming to the feast?”

“For a bit,” she told him and they headed down the hall, “I had to put off a few appointments till tomorrow, I have to be up early.”

“I hope I haven’t caused you any inconvenience,” his words were apologetic but his tone said he knew Sigyn would never find herself inconvenienced, she’d always find a way.

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “you could make it up to me…”

“Oh,” that peaked his interest, “how so?”

Sigyn stopped and turned towards him with the most serious of expressions. “Just how did you get into that moat?”

The halls echoed with his laughter.

…

Loki never again brought up the dance she owed him.

Their friendship now mended, they settled back into their routine which had changed a bit. No longer were they taking lessons from each other, but not for a lack of satisfaction in each other’s tutelage. Sigyn had progressed as much as she dared and Loki was no longer prone to air sickness, for the most part. To complicate matters, their duties as Emissary and Prince were keeping them fairly busy. Not to mention her training schedule with Fandral had been doubled as they were now on a winning streak that could be potentially record breaking.

It was several solstices later that Sigyn was gathering her things to head to the library for research when Embla popped into her post asked, “How are you doing, Sigyn?”

“I am well,” she was a bit confused by Embla’s sudden interest, “and you?”

Embla had that look in her eye she would get when she got gossipy. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard then? No, no I doubt anyone else would broach you with it.”

“You know how I feel about idle gossip,” Sigyn sighed, putting away the last of her work. In truth, Sigyn found gossip to be usual in negotiations and knowing one’s allegiances. As long as the gossip was paired with reason and facts, Sigyn wasn’t one to simply traffic or wallow in it.

“Well, I must tell you, as I think you’ll appreciate it,” Embla moved beside the desk so she could lower her voice, “but Prince Loki is believed to be in a relationship with the Lady Amora.”

Sigyn stared at her blankly, letting out a deep sigh, “As they once believed I was his mistress.”

“True, yes,” Embla gave her an apologetic smile, “but this one seems to have more validity to the story.”

“I’m fearful of what the rumor mongers consider validity,” she nearly laughed, but in the end, “if Loki is indeed courting the Lady Amora then I wish them both well. She’s a highly skilled magic user, I’m sure they have much in common.”

“Somehow I doubt it is magic that they are doing.” Embla smirked, the woman judging Sigyn’s reactions but she would find none. Sigyn had no reason to be jealous of Amora.

Perhaps a touch envious but Sigyn never claimed to be perfect.

Leaving Embla to her rumor mill, Sigyn headed to the library as she had intended. The entire time she wondered when Loki had started to court Amora. How was it something she did not catch? 

“Sigyn,” Loki greeted her in the library, smiling brightly.

“Better,” Sigyn frowned at his image, “but still needs work.”

Loki’s lips formed into a thin line and he nearly growled, his image disappearing in a shuddering green light. He walked around a pillar to her left. “If you would just tell me how you see through my illusions then I can fix the problem.”

“I fear your lack of grace isn’t something you can just ‘fix’, Loki.” She shook her head, waving her hand out to send a pulse which disrupted his second illusion.

Sigyn heard his footsteps behind her and she turned, seeing his true form. The prince was not amused, but by now he had gotten used to it. “Ah well, I’ll take comfort in knowing I can still fool everyone except you and my mother. There always has to be outliers.”

“How practical your thinking.” She nearly rolled her eyes at him.

He chuckled at her, grinning as always, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Speaking of practical, the trade council has had many new inductees lately,” he stepped a little closer and lowered his voice, “but the horrible men who doubted you still hold privilege.”

“You have that scheming look in your eye,” she tried to keep the joviality out of her voice. She had, on occasion, helped Loki with one of his tricks. She dared not admit just how fun it could be.

He was grinning, a near manic look to him if not for the softness in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re not interested.”

Sigyn wanted to lie, but she hesitated too long and Loki laughed. As much as she knew him, he knew her. 

Later that day, mayhem filled the halls of the trade council chambers, and it was a glorious site to behold. Truly, Sigyn had no idea where Loki got that much pickled eel and she was not inclined to ask.

Of course, no one would never know it was them, though most in the royal court would assume Loki’s hand in the matter. The true trick to Loki’s tricks was in his ability to not get caught. He’d have a perfect alibi that no one would be able to crack. 

As they stood in a darkened recess, they enjoyed the fruits of their labor. It was petty, yes, but even Sigyn could not deny how good it felt to see the men who thought so highly of themselves run screaming like frightened chamber maids.

“I could watch this for hours,” Loki finally torn his eyes away from the scene, “but I must be off, I have another appointment to keep.”

Sigyn heard something in his tone and so she ventured, “With the Lady Amora?”

The prince turned towards her, his face near unreadable as always. “Seems that rumor made its rounds rather quickly.”

“I’m just glad they’ve moved on from me,” Sigyn admitted, and truly, she was very much hopeful that everyone would stop seeing her as the prince’s mistress. 

“Why do you insult me so?” Loki frowned but there was no malice there, instead he laughed. “But yes, I’ve taken up with the Lady Amora, she is quite fascinating, and her magic… there are many things I could learn from her.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Sigyn couldn’t help throwing her own innuendo into the words.

“My dear Sigyn,” the prince narrowed his eyes at her, “are you jealous?”

“I’m your friend, not your lover,” she reminded him of the facts, “are you sure Amora would not be the one displeased what with you spending time with me?”

“I would certainly hope not,” he seemed to honestly consider the question, “I can’t stand needy people.”

Sigyn nearly laughed at the irony of the words coming from the man who was in constant need of an audience. Instead, she told him, “Well, I won’t keep you from her company. Thank you for the entertainment.”

“I only ever want you to be happy, my dear Sigyn,” his words were devoid of a flirtatious nature, “because you’re my friend.”

“As you are mine, Loki,” she told him firmly.

After Loki departed, leaving Sigyn to think back over her friendship with the prince, her heart was a mix of emotions. She had never quite gotten over her silly crush, but she was even more pleased to have earned Loki’s friendship. 

Considering that Loki didn’t have friends, he had tools and objects, she considered this to be a far greater achievement than even the beautiful Lady Amora could claim. In a way she felt sorrow for the woman. Loki was a serpent and a liar… all he would do is break her heart.


	22. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably not be able to post anything this weekend, just an FYI.   
> Seeya next week and I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)  
> Thank you for reading. :)

Trust

“Sorry, milady,” a guard stopped Sigyn as she approached one of the many crosswalks, “this area has been cordoned off.”

“Cordoned off?” Sigyn was going to cut through the main trade center to get back to her dorm. She thought about stopping at a particular stall that sold flyer parts. Sigyn and Fandral had won their forty-third race in a row. The record was fifty-nine. The competition was even more determined to knock them from their winning streak so every edge she could get was essential.

But now guards blocked the way, the street beyond them empty and quiet.

“A whole herd of bilgsnipe got into the main market,” the man explained as others approached, also trying to pass through.

“A whole herd?” she questioned as she tried to imagine it. “How did a whole heard of bilgsnipe get into the market center?”

“Don’t know,” the guard shrugged, “but we’re to keep everyone out while wranglers have been sent in to relocate them.”

Sigyn couldn’t understand how one bilgsnipe could get past the outer gates, let alone a whole herd. Perhaps they had been brought in by a wrangler or breeder and they got lose? She’d likely find out tomorrow when the news traveled through the emissary offices. 

In the meantime, she’d have to take the long way around the market. She could go catch a ferry, but it was a lovely night and she enjoyed the walk. 

When she finally reached her room, she was still trying to decide how to spend her evening. She had some contracts to look over, so perhaps a light meal and then maybe an early night for once?

As she closed the door behind her, she saw movement towards the back of the dorm. With a flick of her wrist, she illuminated the entire apartment in bright light as her dagger appeared in her right hand.

“Turn that bloody thing off,” a familiar voice said gruffly from the wash room, “before you draw attention.”

“Loki?” Sigyn didn’t know what to make of the situation, but dutifully lowered the lighting as she walked towards the wash room, laying her tablet and bag on the table as she went.

“Give me a hand, would you,” his voice was terse and painful. Once she got to the entry way to see him proper, she understood why.

The prince was standing at the wash basin, clad in nothing but his leather trousers and boots. He was picking barbs out of his side, blood smeared across his skin. 

“What happened?” Sigyn stepped forward and could now see wounds in his chest from barbs that now laid in the basin. She immediately sheathed her dagger and went to the linen closet, pulling out fresh towels and cloths.

“What does it look like,” he groused as he pulled another barb from his flesh, tossing it into the basin. 

She knew exactly what it looked like, but decided to leave it at that for the moment. Instead she sat down the towels and headed back to the door. “I’ll get some salve.”

Thankfully, Sigyn had a fair amount of supplies on hand. Being a pilot wasn't without its cuts, scraps, and gashes, especially when she was helping her cousin by being an extra pair of hands. However, she never really expected to have a bleeding prince standing in her wash room, his body stuck full of barbs. Or having the prince in her chambers for any reason.

All this time as his friend and she had ever seen the inside of his personal chambers in the palace, nor had he visited her in her dorm. She honestly didn’t think he knew where exactly she lived.

Setting the medical items next to the basin, she started the water pouring so she could dampen one of the cloths. "I'm going to start cleaning your wounds."

He gave her a grunt that she took for agreement. Sigyn then started to wipe away the blood from his opposite side as he went after the last few barbs. Most of the wounds were small and already starting to knit. There were a few where the barbs had obviously dug down deep. And as she cleared away the grime, bruising could be seen.

Loki removed the last of the offending objects, then nearly collapsed onto a stool that was in the wash room. He didn't seem inclined to speak beyond the occasional tsk and annoyance as she tended him.

"This all seems very familiar," Sigyn commented as she got a fresh cloth, running it under the water.

"I think we can agree," his tone was still terse, "that this is a much more agreeable circumstance."

"Indeed." At least there were no serpents this time, well, other than the two of them.

Sigyn picked up one of the barbs and examined it closely. They were tips for arrows used in trick shooting. They were top quality, and from the Dwarves of Nidavellir no less. It was the kind of thing that you could only buy in the central market place. Realizing what happened, she tried not to sigh as she went back to cleaning the prince's wounds.

Finishing with removing the blood and grime, she grabbed the healing salve and started to dab it on the worse of the wounds. As she started to really pay attention to what she was doing, making sure she was giving proper coverage, something clicked over in her thoughts. The air became thicker and the silence more deafening as she ran her hands over Loki's naked torso.

She tried to focus on her task but she was now intimately aware of the lithe muscles that made up his slim build. His taunt skin deceptively smooth under her touch. The thrum of his chest as he breathed...

"How did you get them past the gate?" she asked a little louder than she would have liked but she needed to distract herself from his distracting body.

"Get what past?" he replied in a manner that said he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"The bilgsnipe," she continued, trying to get those last few spots done quickly, "the ones that are thrashing about the market place. That trampled you into a Dwarven wares stall."

"How do you know I wasn't trying to stop them?" he replied indignantly.

Sigyn looked up at him, one brow raised and lips pursed. "You're hiding in my wash room."

"Astute observation," he responded flatly.

Putting salve on the last wound, Sigyn stood and grabbed the bandages. They were self-adhesive, so she just had to pick the right size and lay them over the cuts she wanted covered.

She smirked and Loki frowned at her. "What?"

"Oh," she gave an embarrassed laugh, "I was just thinking how useful these would have been in the Skathi cave."

"I think they would have hardly made a difference," he nearly rolled his eyes, "not with all things considered."

"True," she patched up the last wound, "but every little bit of help is worth having, don't you think?"

He looked at her blankly, then shook his head. The prince was in an obviously sour mood. Whatever he had done, whatever his trick was to be, it had failed and he was physically suffering for it. She could only guess at how wounded his already fragile ego was.

Sigyn had noticed some small tears in his trousers, as well as blood soaking parts of the fabric. "Do I need to bandage your legs?"

Loki glanced down at the fabric and considered it. "Just scrapes there, none of the barbs actually stuck in."

"Alright," she mentally berated herself for being disappointed, "I'm going to clean up this mess."

As Sigyn started to gather all the rags, Loki stood. "Do you have anything to drink?"

"Help yourself to whatever you can find," she told him as she debated what to do with the now gathered towels. Blood removal was a near art form for Asgardians, but sometimes it just wasn't worth the effort.

"Much obliged." Loki nodded at her and then headed out of the room.

It took her a bit to get everything cleaned up. She even rinsed the barbs and threw them into an empty box she located. She doubted they could be returned, so she was at a loss of what to do with them. So she took them to Loki who was sitting at her table. He had a bottle of wine in his hand, no glass to be found, and he had finished off the pheasant she had cooked the day before.

“What would you like done with these?” Sigyn asked as she sat the box of barbs on the table.

“I really couldn’t care less,” and he couldn’t sound more disinterested if he tried.

“Alright then.” Sigyn left the box and went to her wine cabinet, grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass. Loki was taking another chug from his bottle as she poured herself a drink. “I was going to have that pheasant for dinner.”

“You said whatever I could find,” was his response.

“That I did,” she sighed, sitting herself opposite him. After more silence, she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” there was a sad kind of haughtiness to his tone. 

Sigyn could see the hurt in Loki’s eyes. He had planned one of his tricks for the ages, but something had gone wrong. Since he wasn’t ranting about others, he obviously accepted that he was responsible for his own failure. That was a rare thing for the man, his tendency to displace fault not being one of his better traits. 

“Just talk,” she didn’t want to push him. 

He shoved the plate of food toward her. “Your cooking could use more flavor.”

“Not all of us can afford the Vanir spices found so commonly in the palace,” she retorted, trying not to take his comments personally.

Loki took another chug of the wine and Sigyn sipped at her own. 

As the prince was in no mood, she grabbed her tablet and opened up the contract she was planning on reviewing. It was getting fairly late, but she had enough time to get a little work in. As the sun set on the day, she continued as if he wasn’t even there. Loki didn’t speak or do much of anything beyond drowning the wine bottle. 

Sigyn did get up at one point to make herself a plate of cheese and fruits. Wordlessly replacing Loki’s empty bottle with a new one. 

“Are you planning on staying here all night?” she asked once she realized how late it had gotten.

“I dare not show myself until these wounds have healed,” he replied, sitting up from his lounging position.

“I trust that’s the only evidence you left behind?” Sigyn then pointed at the box of barbs. “Other than those, of course?”

“And you,” he said neutrally.

Sigyn tilted her head to the side, judging him and letting her indignation show. “You think I would tell on you?”

His face remained stern and impassive. “I know you won’t.”

“Do you now?” She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

“You are my friend, my dear Sigyn,” he let a little bit of a grin play on his lips, “you’ll always protect me, no matter what.”

Sigyn offered him a subdued smile, acutely aware of the scar that still adored her hand. “I did make you that promise.”

“Yes, you did.” Loki’s gaze was penetrating. 

“Why did you come here?” she suddenly asked, despite herself. “You snuck into my chambers, mine. Why not go to one of your lackeys, or to Lady Amora?”

“The answer is simple, Sigyn, Serpent of Asgard,” he spoke reverently, “you may quite possibly be the only one I can trust.”

A heaviness hung her heart. “Please, don’t give me that burden.”

“It’s not my burden to give,” he replied simply, placing the now empty second bottle of wine on the table.

He was right of course. It was her choice to protect him. To make the promise and keep it faithfully. 

“I would stay here tonight, if you would permit,” he spoke when she did not. “I will make use of your chaise and be gone before you awaken.”

“And how will you explain your absence this night?” Sigyn had mixed feelings about the prince spending the night.

“I’ll come up with something appropriate,” he shrugged, then met her eyes, “but I assure you your name will not be mentioned,” he grinned slowly, “explicit or implied.”

“Appreciated,” she responded and looked away, clearing her throat. “I think I will excuse myself for the night. There are extra blankets and pillows in the closet.”

“I rather like the cold,” he told her near absently, “the heat can be too stifling to sleep.”

“I only feel that way in the dead of summer,” she told him, unsure why she did so. Loki simply continued to stare at her with his neutral but dark gaze. Feeling awkward, Sigyn stood, grabbing her bag and tablet.

“Sleep well,” Loki told her as she headed towards her sleeping chambers, “my dear Sigyn.”

“Sleep well,” she responded, not quite able to look at him, “my prince.”

Sigyn then entered her sleeping chamber and closed the door behind her, a plethora of emotions swimming inside her. She couldn’t lie to herself, she wanted nothing more than invite the man into her room. They could lay waist to the rumors and turn them to truths. But what use would that be?

Loki was a manipulator, a user. He had not friends or lovers. He had tools and objects. Things he found useful. Even Sigyn was not immune to him. He hadn’t truly abused her trust yet… but surely it was only a matter of time. 

In the end though, it came down to the fact that she had his life and he had her heart. They were already connected beyond intimacy. 

Both were Serpents and both were Liars.

They only had two options: save each other or destroy each other.


	23. Vengeance

Vengeance

True to his word, Loki did not bother her as she slept, nor was he there when she awoke. The box of barbs were where she left them, a silent reminder of his trust. 

Rumors and speculation abounded through the city for the next few days. A few believed Loki had to have been behind the bilgesnipe invasion because the prince was a notorious trickster. But Loki had an iron clad alibi and was personally offended that others would think him so crass to be part of such an unfortunate incident.

When next they crossed paths, he spoke nothing of the events, nor of him spending the night.

Things settled and Loki's next few tricks went more smoothly. this increased his mood greatly. He was also still occupying his time with the Lady Amora which Sigyn was sure helped his disposition.

In all honesty, she was happy for her friend... as long as he was happy.

Sigyn sat at a table in the commissary of the Emissary offices. Like many of her fellow Journeymen, she ate distractedly as she read the reference material on her tablet. As occupied as she was, she did feel the eyes that were on her.

Creating an illusion of herself still looking down, she glanced up to see three men sitting a few tables over. Two of them were Journeymen, one an Apprentice. She recognized one Journeyman as someone who had asked her to dance the last three seasons in a row. He wasn't an unhandsome fellow, what with this brown hair and lithe build. She could even hold a relatively intelligent conversation with him.

Perhaps it was time she moved on?

The guilt she still held over Theoric’s death had settled. It would remain a weight in her gut but it was now less of a burden. She had accepted that it will always be a part of her.

As for the prince, well, she'd just have to take her heart back from him. By force if needs be. She did still have his life as collateral which she could always barter with. 

Sigyn was considering her options as she walked back to her post. She needn't find a husband at this time, she was already unbound. But now that her life had fallen into a routine, what was the harm in finding someone to warm her bed? Other than the fact that she might be overly scrutinized by those who still hadn't forgiven her for her transgressions regarding the Trade Council and her semi-heretical views.

There was also the fact that many still thought she was Loki's mistress, or at least had been.

Upon consideration, perhaps starting a relationship with another wasn't a good idea at this time. If anything, it was unfair to any potential partner.

When she turned down the hall leading to her post, she found several older men crowding the area in front of her door. She recognized them as Trade Councilors and Master Emissaries. Specifically, they were the individuals she had worked with on the Kree Trade-War Truce.

"Gentlemen." Sigyn acknowledged them when she approached.

"Journeyman Sigyn," the leader, Harish, formally greeted her. "We require a moment of your time."

"Yes, sir Councilor," she treated him just as formally. This was curious, but Sigyn nodded politely and gestured towards her post. Once everyone was crammed inside, she took her seat behind her desk. Harish and one of the other high level Councilors took the only other chairs in the room.

"As you are likely aware," he spoke with the smoothness of a man of his station, "the original truce we signed with the Kree is coming to an end."

"I am aware." Sigyn had followed the situation with interest, wondering what the council was planning on doing but knowing it wasn't her place to comment.

"We've already had several talks with the Kree, we've established favorable terms for a permanent peace treaty," Harish explained, and as congenial as he was being, he didn't bother to hide his distaste for her. Sigyn was rather glad for this, why bother hiding a truth she already knew? "In a fortnight, the delegation will be heading to a neutral meeting ground to finalize the last details."

"This is good news." Indeed, with a truce there was always the problematic issue of any little thing setting off another skirmish. 

"The Kree are requesting your presence," Harish nearly choked on those words.

Sigyn was just barely more composed. "Me? They specifically asked for me?"

"Well," he collected himself quickly, "they are requesting the person who came up with the twelve percent variance."

When the truce was set, one of the agreements was that Asgard received a twelve percent cut of all shipments of processed heavy metals. In return, Asgard provided an equal match of agricultural goods and staple crops. It was a bold move, Sigyn admitted it, but the Kree had reluctantly agreed as agriculture isn't their strongest science.

“They are wanting to renegotiate?” Sigyn surmised.

“Yes,” Harish nodded, “they seek to have it removed, even if it means losing the food stuffs.” 

“Our trading partners are well pleased with the variance,” she spoke out loud though it was mostly for her benefit, to show that she understood the situation, “the Kree have to compensate for the variance and the sellers have the advantage.”

“The Xandarians are also appreciative,” the councilor added, “the Nova Corps has been holding against the Kree but should the Kree be able to suddenly ramp up production because they are no longer expending those extra resources…”

Sigyn let herself smile. “It’s amazing what twelve percent can do.”

…

“You’re not actually going?” Loki was the first one to speak after Sigyn told the gathered group of friends of her impending trip.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she countered back, nearly tsking at him as she placed her mug of mead down on the table they were seated at. 

The councilors explained that the Kree delegation wanted to negotiate the point of the twelve percent variance with the person who came up with it. The twelve percent was not a random number. Sigyn had chosen it after careful market research. It was enough to cause a bottleneck of supplies, but not so high that it would frustrate the Kree into breaking the truce.

“The Kree are very dangerous warriors,” Thor was agreeing with his brother, “and while the truce has held, should things deteriorate, the delegation will be in a very unfortunate position.”

“We will not be without our guards,” Sigyn told him, “but all of your concerns are well appreciated.”

“Perhaps we should go?” Fandral offered from across the table. 

“Splendid idea,” Sif agreed.

“Yes!” Thor raised his mug.

“No,” Sigyn told them all firmly. “This is peace talks. If two princes and Asgard’s greatest warriors show up then there will be war.”

Eventually she was able to get her friends to understand the need for diplomacy, even if she did have to hide her worry. She would be vulnerable should anything go wrong. But she had her magic, her illusions, and her dagger.

…

Days later, Sigyn found herself at the neutral meeting ground on a third party world. Introductions were made, the Asgardians and Kree even feasted together as a sign of trust. But the following days were grueling work as both sides discussed every possible point of contention for a set peace between them.

The Kree were a stubborn race, but their hatred for the Asgardians was simple economics. It wasn’t like the deep seated cultural hatred they had for the Xandarians.

Different parts of the treaty were covered by the individual Master Emissaries and Councilors who had more experience in the particular area being discussed. The Kree delegation functioned in much of a similar way. As a Journeyman, Sigyn was largely left to sit and watch proceedings. It was a rather good learning experience as the Master Emissaries were Masters for a reason.

When it was time to discuss the twelve percent variance, Sigyn took her place at the center of the room. Behind her sat the Asgardian delegates as she faced the Kree and told them, in words specifically chosen, that the variance would stand. Asgard would continue to receive twelve percent of the processed heavy metals and in return would give them agricultural goods. 

One of the Kree stood and walked around the table, his steps slow and casual as she finished her speech. She hadn’t been dismissed nor had the Kree made notion of their counter offer, so Sigyn did not move. It was quite irregular that the Kree would not follow established procedure, but it was wasn’t a grievous offense either.

“You’ve made it quite clear,” the Kree delegate was a military officer by the name of Par-sell. Sigyn remembered being introduced to him on the third day of the negotiations, he hadn’t been there at the beginning, “that Asgard will find no quarter with this variance.”

“This was established at the truce talks.” Sigyn would not allow the break in formalities to faze her. The Kree saw that she was only a Journeyman, perhaps they thought her an easy target? “We stated that if you took the variance then it would be non-negotiable, and we would not give it up.”

“You took advantage of a desperate people,” Par-sell was now standing in front of her, almost in hand’s reach, “you gave us food as a means of control, not out of kindness.”

“I worried for your people, those left to starve as you built your war machine,” Sigyn looked him in dead in the eyes, knowing she’d probably be lambasted later for her boldness, “that is why I designed the variance as I did. If that is not a kindness, then I think I require a better understanding of the Kree.”

“Or perhaps it is I who requires a better understanding of Asgardians.” Par-sell braced his hands behind his back and set a pair of judging, dark eyes on her. “Your name is Sigyn Sturedotter, is it not?”

Sigyn’s heart skipped a beat, alarms sending her hairs to stand straight on end at his words. Taking a shallow breath in an attempt to show no outward emotion, she answered, “I am Journeyman Emissary Sigyn, the Serpent of Asgard.”

“But you were Sturedotter, no?” Par-sell pressed, seemingly disinterested but there was a sharpness in his eyes she was all too familiar with. 

Master Harish stood. “This is not a relevant topic of discussion.” 

“Sigyn Sturedotter,” the Kree ignored Harish, “betrothed of Theoric Canutason.”

Sigyn was a mess of conflicting and troublesome emotions. But she kept her face calm as she tried to figure out what the man’s game was. 

“I felled him, you know,” Par-sell continued and Sigyn could hear Harish and a few of the other delegates protest, “the one known as Theoric Canutason,” the Kree stepped forward just enough to be within striking range.

“And what does this have to do,” her voice was too raw to be smooth, but she held her stance, “with agricultural goods?”

“Everything, _Journeyman_ Emissary Sigyn.” He smiled at her, as if he had already won. “How odd, a mere Journeyman, working on a truce agreement?”

“I think you overestimated my importance in the final product,” she replied without censure, her fingers unconsciously balling into fists as she tried to remain calm in front of the man who _claimed_ to have felled Theoric. 

“Honored delegates,” another of the Asgardian councilmen stood, “this is highly improper.”

“Is it?” the lead Kree delegate, a man by the name of Soran, called out. “You let an inexperienced young girl plan your treaty, one whose lover had just been slain, and you do not consider that relevant?”

“I assure you,” Sigyn spoke before Harish or the others could, “that had I sought vengeance, I would not have been so kind.”

The delegates from both sides started to not so much as shout but talk in a very loud and forceful manner. The Kree were accusing the twelve percent variance of being a bulling maneuver by a distraught maiden. The Asgardians accused the Kree of bulling ‘a poor young woman’ and of overestimating Sigyn’s importance in the original talks. 

Par-sell’s eyes never left hers, his words loud enough to be heard only by her, “He didn’t say much, when I ran him through.” One might think the Kree warrior was discussing a play, he was so casual. “Just the usual grunting, a little gurgling.” He left himself laugh lightly. “Then the light just went out of his eyes. They were brown… light speckles of gold…”

The room was a disharmony of angry voices all wishing to be heard. In an instance Sigyn silenced every last one of them. The dagger Loki had given her, had taught her how to weld as a deadly weapon, appeared in her hand. It loosely dangled in her fingers, tapping against her thigh. 

Kree law was different than Asgardian, but she knew enough to know that she would be well within her rights to strike down Par-sell. The Kree couldn’t even charge her with a crime as it was a life for a life. 

“I think you’ll find this sharper than words,” Sigyn said as she brought the dagger up, flipping it expertly in her hand so that she now held it by the blade, the hilt towards Par-sell. The man was a warrior, he was also likely expecting a violent reaction, so he did not move nor blink, but he did draw his brows together in confusion. “You are trying to diminish me, are you not? Reduce me to nothing? A swift jab to the heart would be much more efficient.”

Where once it was loud, the room was now so quiet every slight shuffle of clothing nearly boomed throughout the room. Sigyn kept her eyes locked with Par-sell, finding strength by standing upon the layers of guilt she had for Theoric’s death. This man may have laid the lethal blow but she put her betrothed in his path. 

“No?” Sigyn finally asked as she saw Par-sell slacken just a bit, easing slightly away from her. 

“You’ve made your point,” Par-sell had a strange look on his face, somewhere between annoyance and respect. 

“I do hope so,” she lowered her hand and the dagger disappeared back into its hiding space. Taking a deep breath she turned away from Par-sell to address Soran, “The twelve percent variance stands. Anyone else wish to argue?”

…

The group stood before their King, Master Councilor Harish explaining the general details of what had transpired during the peace treaty talks. Lord Odin was pleased to hear that everything went as had been discussed. Peace was upheld and Asgard was assured economic prosperity.

Before they were let go, the King turned to Sigyn for the first and only time that day. "Journeyman Emissary Sigyn," he spoke evenly, "is it true you nearly stabbed a Kree warrior?"

"Nearly would imply attempt," Sigyn managed to keep her tone neutral. Harish had left that part out of his report.

"From what I hear," the King had such an ease to his tone, something his younger son inherited, "the Kree officer would have been well deserved of an attempt."

"Deserved, yes," she felt there was no point denying this, "but it would not have been worth the trouble it would’ve brought."

"He killed your betrothed, did he not?" Odin raised the brow over his good eye. "You would have been well within your rights, by both our laws, theirs especially."

"Yes," she nodded, swallowing hard though her throat was dry, "but my vengeance would not have served Asgard. It would have been used against me and the treaty."

"You gave up your rightful revenge," his words were slow and deliberate, "for the sake of one addendum on a piece of parchment."

"A very crucial addendum, your highness," Sigyn was once again feeling like that girl who stood before him seasons ago. Young, inexperienced, terrified. "They impugned my honor believing me to be easily manipulated. They thought I would sacrifice all the Xandarians who would die should they ramp up production. They even risked one of their own being slaughtered at my hand." Sigyn raised her head high. "For what? Theoric died an honorable, warrior's death. I will not have that sullied with petty bureaucratic weaseling."

There was a soft murmur at her words about honor. Sigyn would not back down from her stance that a warrior could die honorably, but for foolish reasons that never should have put him in that position in the first place.

"You still gave up your right to avenge your betrotheds death." The King smiled at her, a knowing tint to his lips. "Some might call you a heretic, Journeyman Emissary Sigyn."

"I rather consider myself faithful," she replied with a bit too much indignation to her tone. Then at his pinched brow she gave a slightly apologetic frown and explained, "My vengeance would only serve myself. My resilience serves all of Asgard."

Odin judged her, just he had done before, and this both reassured her and frightened her.

"Yes," he finally spoke, "your faithfulness seems to be a defining trait of yours, Journeyman Emissary Sigyn."

"Thank you, my King." Sigyn nodded her head in a slight curtsey.

After a moment's consideration, Odin turned his eye back to Harish. "Is this all?"

"Yes, your highness," the Master told him clearly.

"Then you may all take your leave." He gestured curtly and they extricated themselves from the throne room with a bow of their heads.

Once they left, Master Harish stopped her in the side hall as the others went on. He and the other councilors had said nothing after the altercation with Par-sell. Likely this was so that news of any argument would not get back to the Kree. They did not want to give them a reason to believe there was a division in the Asgardian delegation. 

If Sigyn was now to be harangued for her actions, she would only bite her tongue so much.

"You did admirably," the man said.

Sigyn nearly choked, his words being the opposite of what she expected. 

"That does not excuse your tendency to step out of place," Harish continued with a tone she was more familiar with.

"Perhaps I'm not in the right place to begin with?" Sigyn couldn't help reply flippantly, meaning little by it.

"Fancy yourself a Master's post?" The man had the same judging eyes as the King, though there was something behind his that made her skin begin to crawl.

"Once fancies a hot cup of tea and an even hotter bath," she said drolly, it was an old idiom from times long past. "I only wish to serve Asgard to the best of my abilities."

"You serve Asgard," Harish grinned just enough to be disconcerting, "you service the prince. All so very subservient."

"Idle gossip serves you ill,” her words were hard and obvious in nature. She did not like the tone of his voice, nor his insinuations. 

"You're such a pretty young woman." Harish raked his eyes across her.

Sigyn felt like throwing up, or better yet, running the man through with her dagger. Both would be highly unseemly so she told him sharply, "Yes, I am. And this fact will have nothing to do with when and how I gain my Master rank."

With a disgusted flourish, she turned on her heels to head towards the main hall. Harish tried to grab her arm as she moved. Performing the same defensive tactic she had once done to Loki, she twirled and hit the councilor’s elbow. Staying with the attack, she jabbed her own elbow between his shoulder blades and he stumbled into the wall.

"You mewling quim!" Harish spat at her as he turned back towards her. Sigyn thought he might try to attack again, but all he did was fume. "You tease me, lead me on, and then attack me?"

Sigyn frowned, trying to understand how her flippant remarks could be taken such a way. They weren't in a flirtatious tone. Did he hear what he wanted to hear? Or was this his way of defending his actions?

And he attacked her, she was defending herself.

Harish straightened his clothing and threw his nose up at her. "You'll never make Master with this kind of attitude."

With a determined stomp to his feet, the man walked away from her. A thousand thoughts at once raced through her mind as she watched him go. None of which were to stop him and try to 'correct' the situation.

Par-sell may have escaped her wrath for the sake of Asgard... but it would be a disservice to her people to leave Master Harish in power.

The scar on Sigyn's hand began to itch and she was reminded of how she once crushed the Skathi serpent with her own bare hands. What was one more slimy, venomous creature dead at her feet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think someone has been hanging around with Loki too much... ;)


	24. Manipulations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Insinuations of dubcon/rape in this chapter. I don't really go into it, but it's there.  
> It's part of Harish's story plus I touch on something mentioned in an episode of Agents of SHIELD.

Manipulations

Loki was right. He usually was. 

For a master of lies, he often spoke only the truth. That was his greatest trick.

In this particular case, he was correct in asserting that those who are too heavy handed in their deceitful ways were the instruments of their own demise.

When Sigyn first told Loki of the events that transpired, she had worried that maybe she made a calculated mistake. She could see the way Loki’s breathing became measured and his jaw tightened ever so exactly. It was a restrained rage that rippled through his body. That someone would that to his friend…

All she would have had to do was give him a nod of her head, a twitch of her lips, any sign that it was perfectly okay for a tragic fate to befall Master Councilor Harish. 

Not that anyone would ever know Loki had anything to do with such unfortunate circumstances.

But no, Sigyn had a plan, she simply needed help in pulling it off.

“Harish insulted and propositioned _me_ ,” she had told him. “For once, I want to be the trickster.”

The grin that formed on his lips at that comment was downright indecent.

Over the next several days, Sigyn and Loki went about secretly gathering evidence against Harish. If he had treated her that way, it was likely she wasn’t alone. As the facts added up, Sigyn became sick to her stomach at the amount of women who had suffered under his threats. Even Lady Amora became interested in helping to put a stop to the vile councilor. 

Amora was very adept in manipulating Harish to make sure he played his part in their scheme.

This is how Sigyn ended up in the gallery of the war council chamber, shrouded in an illusion as she wasn’t technically supposed to be there. Loki was sitting with his father and brother down below. All of the war councilors were in attendance, as were the generals and military leaders.

And Harish was standing at the center dais in nothing but his briefs.

The man had thought he was to sully the virtue of a young apprentice, played masterfully by an illusion-cloaked Amora. But just as things were about to heat up for the councilor, a cleverly planned sequence of events unfolded. This led Harish to run out of the room, down the hall, and through the only door that was conveniently unlocked. 

Sigyn took an inordinate amount of please seeing him physical humiliated in front of everyone. Then the best part came as he tried explain just how he got there without his clothes. The more he spoke, the more he dug himself his own grave as he tried not to reveal he had been planning a tryst with a _very_ young apprentice.

“Why was that?” Loki kept asking questions, using his inside knowledge to make sure he led Harish deeper into the hole he was digging. Harish’s councilor training only served him so far until the King, Thor, and several others started to realize that something was wrong, seriously wrong, and the truth came out.

Eventually Harish was taken from the room, dragged out by guards as he screamed insensately about his own perceived importance. 

“He’ll be stripped of his title, his honors,” Amora said gleefully as Sigyn met her in the hallway.

“With all the women we found,” Sigyn was also immensely pleased, “his weregild tributes will divest him of most of his fortune.”

“I have to hand it to you, Sigyn,” they started to walk back around towards the main entrance to the council chambers, “when you decide to play a trick, you destroy a man’s life. I see why Loki considers you a valued friend.”

Sigyn gathered, by the way she spoke, that this was how he had described Sigyn to Amora: a valued friend. The phrase left her saddened. “Loki doesn’t value friends, he values tool and objects which are useful to him.”

“And you are very useful, Sigyn.” Amora gave her a pity-filled smile. 

The councilors were leaving, most of them discussing Harish and his possible fate. None were too kind with their words. The King was absolutely livid as he made his way down the hallway, his son’s in tow. Before they passed from view down another hall, Loki nodded to both of them. 

She supposed it made an interesting scene, Loki’s current mistress and supposed previous mistress standing with each other randomly in a hallway. 

“Has he told you he loves you?” Sigyn asked bluntly once Loki was gone. 

“That’s something between us,” the woman wasn’t haughty about it at least, Sigyn could respect that, “but yes, he has. Why do you ask?”

“I do value him as a friend,” Sigyn told her, accepting Amora’s words were true, “and I want to know that he’s happy.”

But in all honesty, Sigyn simply knew the prince better than anyone. He had certain behaviors that she had come to expect from him, certain key phrases that spoke of his moods.

If he said something was unfortunate, he was responsible.

If he actually uses the words ‘I’m sorry’ then he’s trying to distract you.

If he tells you ‘I love you’ then he’s trying to manipulate you. 

Sigyn debated telling Amora, but something in the woman’s eyes told her that she was perhaps playing Loki as much as he was playing her. The man probably enjoyed it, theirs being a barter of wits and machinations. It was a game he so did love playing…

Well… as long as he was happy, she would ignore the jab of envy in her heart.

…

“Forty-seven!” Fandral shouted, once again spinning her around on the deck of their flyer.

“Brilliant!” Sigyn was so pleased she kissed her cousin on the cheek before he could do so to her. 

They reached the dock to see a few dozen people waving and shouting. The cousins were that much closer to breaking the consecutive wins record. No one else had gotten to forty-seven. Now they had the second longest winning streak. 

When they jumped down from the flyer onto the dock, Sif, Hogun, and Volstagg were there. For a moment she thought it odd that Thor was absent. If he was in the Realm, he was always the first to congratulate them on their successful run. 

They made their way to the feasting tent and received their token. Fandral had his tokens fashioned into two chain belts that he wore as a battle honor. Sigyn was considering doing the same as now she had too many to hang as a necklace. She would figure something out, though she didn’t have much cause to wear her honors as her cousin did. A woman of her place and position wasn’t exactly supposed to be wearing battle honors of any type.

Yet she already had two: the tokens of her wins and the necklace tucked under her dress.

“Sigyn!” Sven greeted her, giving her a hug. “Keep this up and you’ll replace me in the air fleet.”

“Maybe I will,” she playfully teased back.

“You’re bringing the family great honor, sister,” he told her as they settled down at a table. “I know father will not speak of it directly, but he is proud of you.”

“I do not need his words,” she told him with sorrow in her voice, “but I am so glad to have yours.”

The siblings talked for a short time, catching up on Sven’s family life. Sven commented about how he worried for Sigyn when she went to the peace talks. He was both terrified and proud at what happened between her and Par-sell. Some of Theoric’s family again shunned her because she didn’t run the Kree through, not understanding how that would have just made things worse.

Sven eventually had to leave so he could corral his children who were running rampant. But before he departed, he asked her, “Are you happy?”

“Of course I am,” she nearly laughed, “I’m ecstatic. Forty-seven wins!”

“Aye, Sigyn,” he smiled at her, then it turned thoughtful, “but there has to be more to life than flying and nearly stabbing Kree.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted to him with a wink, “but it’s so much fun.”

Sven left to chase after his oldest, but his words echoed inside her. He touched too close the confused feelings she’d been having for some time now. It wasn't like she was a woman without options. She could easily take home near anyone from the feast, use them to satisfy any wants she had, and dispose of them the next day.

Sif let out a bellowing laugh at something and it caught her attention. Sigyn was reminded that although the Lady Sif had a deep love for the older prince, even she had taken lovers that lasted from a single night to a season or two. She was always rather selective though, ensuring that they were good men and not the abhorrent jackals that saw her as nothing but a conquest.

"Well done," Loki said as he sat down beside her. He grabbed a mug to pour some mead into it. "I had no doubt, of course."

"Of course," she replied dryly and lightly rolled her eyes.

"Did I not say you could do anything you put your mind to?" The prince grinned before taking a swig of his drink.

"And if I decided that I had tired of you," she shot back playfully, "and I wanted to end the life you so graciously placed in my hands?"

Loki lowered the mug, looking over the rim with near child-like eyes. "Make it quick and painless, and please, leave the face intact, that's all I ask."

Sigyn let out a bark of laughter and covered her mouth as the sound nearly shocked her. The prince was grinning at her, grabbing a roll and topping up his mug. For a moment she forgot herself, lazing in the feeling of merriment with her friend. Someone caught his attention and he looked away, his face silhouetted in a lantern that hung somewhere behind him.

Lustful feelings were easy enough to take care, if that was all she felt for that damn man who still held a vice grip on her heart.

“Have you heard the news about the unfortunate ex-Master ex-Councilor Harish?” Loki turned back to her, a grin still playing on his lips.

“That he’s completely destitute now?” Sigyn had been keeping tabs on the disgraced man. “He’s taken up residence in a work house.”

Asgardians lived far too long to allow anyone to go homeless or starving. For those who fell on hard times, there were work houses which functioned as they should, providing a means to pick one’s self back up. They provided shelter, counselling, rehabilitation, and opportunities to learn new skills. 

“He’ll never again hold any kind of power,” Loki commented, a devious lit to his voice.

“Perhaps he’ll make a decent sewage worker?” Sigyn didn’t like to speak ill of people, but she thought Harish warranted a good debasing. 

“Your plan to get him to reveal himself worked splendidly, I’m impressed,” he kept his words low, “but I do not understand why you didn’t come forward to receive your portion of the weregild.”

Sigyn had considered it, but in the end she knew she had not suffered nearly as badly as those who came before her. “Watching him humiliated like that, that was weregild enough for me.”

The prince went to comment when a ruckus drew their attention to the next table over. Fandral had stopped Thor as he walked through the feasting hall and was regaling him with the story of their monumental win. 

But the older prince simply batted Fandral away, telling him he had no time for such inane things when there was more important matters to attend to.

“It’s not like Thor to be so…” Sigyn nearly said the word ‘you’ but settled on, “petulant. Not when there is a celebration to be had.” 

“You’re right.” Loki’s brow was low as he watched his brother walk away. “Not like him at all.”

With a barely muttered ‘excuse me’, Loki left her and made his way not after Thor, but to a back corner of the tent. There the Lady Amora was speaking to some of her confidants. Loki swiftly pulled the woman away and, to everyone else, it probably looked straight forward. The prince was talking to his mistress and then they left to do what lovers do. 

But Sigyn could see the tenseness of Loki’s action. The grip on Amora’s arm which was a bit too forceful. As they left, their whispered words were through gritted teeth. 

Sigyn had no idea what was going on, but she was sure it was absolutely no good.

…

Two mornings later, Sigyn was searching for her cousin as he had failed to show up at the dock. It was their routine that after the Summer Solstice race they spent one day letting Fandral get over his hangover. The day after that was spent cleaning and tuning their flyer, with a lot of discussion regarding what they needed to work on.

Fandral hadn’t missed before, so she became worried.

Sigyn went to the main palace, wondering if perhaps he was passed out under a table with Thor. She knew Fandral had plans on seeing his friend following the strange altercation. It would not be unreasonable to think that they drank themselves into a stupor.

There was a dash of a familiar blue-grey coat and Sigyn caught a glimpse of Fandral heading down a hallway. She called after him but he apparently did not hear. Taking quick steps, she called his name a few more times as she attempted to catch up. Eventually he did stop, but only because he entered a security room.

“Fandral?” Sigyn questioned her cousin as she followed him inside the room before the door closed. 

Security rooms like the one she was in was accessible only by the Royal Guard as it contained control interfaces for the main palace’s defenses. Fandral, along with Volstagg, were considered a special detachment of the Royal Guard so he was granted access. In fact, he was one of the few put completely in charge of the palace defenses. Sigyn never could understand why the man chose to fight on the ground when he made a much better flyer and tactical commander. 

Fandral brought up the display and it looked to her like he was starting to deactivate many of the automatic defenses. This included removing the locks on the various treasure vaults.

“Fandral!” Sigyn shouted once she realized what he was doing, moving forward to grab his arm.

“Go away,” he told her forcefully, shoving her to the ground easily because she hadn’t honestly expected her cousin to do such a thing to her. He would never raise a hand to any woman. “I have to do this for her, or she won’t be happy.”

Picking herself slowly off the floor, she didn’t know what happened to her dear cousin to turn him into the seemingly single-minded drone before her. But what she did know was that no good could come from the palace’s defenses being brought down.

“I’m so sorry,” she told him before kicking out hard at the back of his knee as Loki had taught her. 

The warrior buckled, his balance completely lost and he fell to his knees. As he did so, she grabbed his head by the hair and drove it into the console. It wasn’t enough to break either his skull or the console, but the man wobbled a bit before falling over. 

“Fandral?” Sigyn rolled him over onto his back, seeing that he was semi-conscious, mumbling to himself. Glad that he had wounds he would heal easily enough, Sigyn stood and ran to the door of the room. Opening it up she began to yell, “Help! Guards!” 

Sigyn expected the palace guards, but was met by the image of Loki and Sif barreling around the corner, weapons drawn.

“Where is she?” Sif growled as the two warriors barged past her into the room.

“She?” Sigyn asked as Loki went to the console and Sif checked Fandral’s vitals.

“He was trying to open a path for them.” Loki turned the defenses back on and started to put the palace on lockdown.

“Then let’s go,” Sif was already at to the door.

Sigyn wanted to ask what was going on but there was a sense of urgency in the others that made her bite her tongue lest she delay them.

“Take him to the infirmary,” Loki said as he passed her, “but he may still be under her spell, so if he fights, hit him again.”

“And if you see her,” Sif looked near inches from a berserker rage, “don’t let her speak, just run her through with your dagger.”

“Who?” Sigyn asked but they were already out the door.

“Lorelei,” the woman shouted as she and Loki ran down the hall.

“Amora’s sister?” Sigyn truly had no idea what was happening, but as Fandral seemed to regain his faculties, she feared the worst.

…

“Oh, for Valhalla’s sake, Sigyn,” Fandral rolled his eyes at her as he laid on the bed, cooling pack on his forehead, “stop apologizing.”

“I banged your head into a console.” Sigyn frowned, the cuts and bruises still evident on his face.

“You did the right thing,” Hogun assured her where he stood at the end of the recovery bed.

Before she could reply, there was a large clatter of an overturned bed hitting the floor and items being scattered about. There was a thunderous strike of lightening outside in the downpour which echoed the howl of the God of Thunder. 

Thor hadn’t been acting himself for the past couple of days because, as Sigyn learned, he had been under a charm spell. Normally charm spells were little more than mood boosters, they made individuals more pliant. But Lorelei, Amora’s younger sister, had perfected one which could put a man under her control. 

But only men as they have an inherent weakness that could be exploited.

Lorelei got close enough to Thor to use it on him, the man falling under her power at her touch. Then when Fandral visited his friend, she charmed him as well. No one was entirely sure what the woman’s endgame had been, but it seemed like she was planning to leave Asgard with the crown prince and most of the royal fortune.

To say that Thor did not take well to being used and manipulated would be a gross case of understating the facts at hand. The man was more angry and livid than she had ever seen. He looked as if he was ready to tear the very stone from the foundations.

“Get ahold of yourself, boy.” Odin grabbed Thor by the shoulder and dragged him farther down the infirmary and words were exchanged as the elder man tried to calm his son.

Loki was pacing slightly, he had also been trying to calm his brother but it wasn’t exactly his strong suit. He was much better at antagonizing Thor than reassuring him.

“Why did she not charm you?” Sigyn asked Loki when she could get a moment with him a few beds down from Fandral and Hogun.

“For the weak willed, she need only to speak her charm,” the man told her, his voice a mix of anger and curiosity, “but for those with mental fortitude, she needed a more direct approach. I wouldn’t let her get that close.”

“I see.” This made sense to Sigyn with what she understood of charm spells. She never really learned how to use them, it always seemed like a waste. If you had to rely on a charm to get what you needed, then you weren’t doing it right. “Did you know that Lorelei was planning to use it on Thor?”

Loki’s head shot up at that question. “Are you accusing me of being a part of this?”

“I saw you, at the feast, when Thor was acting odd,” Sigyn really didn’t want to believe Loki had anything to do with the situation, “you went straight to Amora and I know you were not uttering sweet nothings into her ear.”

The prince continued to glare at her with indignation, but then it broke and he admitted in a low voice, “I know she was working on the spell, but for her to use it on Thor? That was incredibly bold and insanely stupid.”

The way he spoke with such utter contempt towards Lorelei convinced Sigyn that Loki didn’t have anything to do with the events that transpired. Loki may often pull tricks on Thor, but that was because Thor was _his_ brother. No one was allowed to mess with his brother but him.

“Loki,” the Queen had finally arrived and she called her son over to her.

The prince excused himself and headed over to her, the two of them then joining Odin and Thor. Though Lorelei had been stopped, it did the royal family no good for it to be known that one of them was manipulated such as he was. They were going to have to weather this one as a family, but Sigyn had no doubt that by the next Summer Solstice the incident would be largely forgotten.

Well, forgotten except by those personally affected by it.

“Sigyn,” Sif came up beside her, “you look tired, I’ll escort you back to your domicile.”

“Uh, okay.” Sigyn frowned, they weren’t that far from her place. But Sif looked antsy, for her, and perhaps in need of a reason to extricate herself from the situation. “Thank you.”

After another apology to Fandral, Sigyn and Sif walked in silence the entire trip to her dorm. 

“Why don’t you come in,” Sigyn could tell the woman was wound tight, “have a drink.”

“If you insist,” the woman’s tone said disinterest but there was a weakness in her stature that worried Sigyn.

“I insist,” she led the warrior into her rooms and gestured for her to sit at the table. As Sigyn retrieved a bottle of wine, she heard a heavy clank and thud. She turned to see Sif’s sword on the table, the woman holding herself up with white white knuckled fists on the wood as her calm demeanor broke. “Sif?”

“The things…” her typically strong voice was weak and cracked, “the things she made him do…”

“You mustn’t dwell on it,” Sigyn told her as she came around the table, wine forgotten. No one spoke of it directly, but Thor had been under the woman’s spell for several days… and several nights.

“I should have cut her heart out.” Sif shook violently and Sigyn risked embracing the woman as one would their child, clutching her around the shoulders and running a soothing hand down her arm. Sif was normally so strong, now she needed a moment to be weak, and Sigyn let her do so without judgment. 

“It wasn’t your right,” she hoped her friend would understand, “it’s Thor’s. You could not rob him of his vengeance.”

“Thor,” the name nearly broke her, “why must I feel this way for him. Why does it hurt so much?”

It was a familiar ache that she spoke of. And after so much loss, after choosing to deny her own feelings, all Sigyn could answer was, “Our heart hurts to let us know it’s still beating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't watch Agents of SHIELD. Sif guest stars on an episode and hunts down an escaped Lorelei. It's heavily insinuated that Lorelei had her way with Thor at some point in the past. Interestingly enough, Sif says she was sent by "Odin" to get Lorelei and I kinda wondered why that might be. Was it a "well, that's what Odin would do so I'm gonna do it" play by Loki? Was it Loki trying to keep Sif distracted so she doesn't notice anything is amiss (something I'm really leaning towards as in the second episode Sif guest stars in he's once again sent her to Midgard to track down a random Kree)? Or is Loki planning on using Lorelei, either for her talents or as leverage/payment against Amora? Or is this one more plot point that's going to go nowhere. I guess we'll find out next year.
> 
> On a side note, I do have a personal headcannon that Loki is immune to Lorelei because he's genderfluid... but that didn't come into play here, at least through Sigyn's POV.
> 
> Oh, and before I forget, the 'tokens' on Fandral's belt is a real thing-ish. If you look at a picture of him flying in Dark World, he has these gold chain belts and that's where I came up with the idea of the their prizes basically being mini-Olympic medals.


	25. Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is sssoooo late without warning, but I was prepping the following chapters and realized I had completely skipped over an important plot point. This meant writing another chapter and splitting up another. The next chapter will likely be delayed a few days for the same reason.
> 
> If it's any consolidation... we're getting very close to the stuff I'm sure you've all been waiting for. :)

Master

The following days were tense as word of Lorelei’s manipulations came to light, at least among the higher echelons. It was decided that the full breath of the incident shouldn’t become common knowledge. Even though Lorelei had to physically touch Thor to break past his mental fortitude, he might still be considered weak in the eyes of those who didn’t understand the power of the spell. 

Thor was dark and moody for the entire season, constantly in the training halls. He never spoke about what had occurred, at least not that Sigyn could hear. The summer was plagued by heavy rains.

Lorelei’s punishment for her actions, which were classified as treason, meant she got the honor of being locked away in the prison. There would be no second chance for her, at least not for a thousand or so years. It bothered Sigyn that Lorelei received a harsher punishment than Harish, only because she took advantage of Royalty rather than commoners. Although, there wasn’t much guarantee that Lorelei wouldn’t try to use her magic on others should she remain free.

Amora tried to distance herself from her sister but it did little good. Amora wasn’t exactly pristine herself, she had a more natural talent of getting what she wanted. But regardless, Loki cut off his relationship with the woman, in a congenial fashion at least. Amora could prove useful in the future and Loki was never one to discard a tool.

Sif battled alongside Thor in the training halls. Often sparing. Often going a little too far as they both burned off their heated aggression.

Loki was strangely kind to his brother for a time, not once playing a trick at his expense. 

In the end, Asgardians had learned the hard way that dwelling on the painful memories was a dangerous game. They lived far too long to spend each day courting regret and anger. It was a madness that could eat their soul. 

Sigyn often worried about Loki because of this. He hadn’t quite grown out of his constant need to prove himself.

The Winter Solstice saw a slight return to Thor’s usual demeanor as he partook in the festivities. Once the Summer Solstice came around again, he was there to cheer on Fandral and herself. There was a subduedness to his actions as he smiled and embraced them for their forty-eighth win, but soon he would be himself again.

They would all be themselves again.

Sigyn stood next to a large wooden post, surveying the feasting tent. She had just finished a conversation with another pilot about a new design element in the flyer controls that the manufacturer was coming out with. Sigyn wanted to test it, but she felt that while it was a more compact design, it was going to be too efficient to be practical for a racer. She needed the flyer to react when she reacted, not try to fly itself for her.

After that spirted debate, the pilot moved on and she was left to wonder what she was going to do with herself. The incident with Lorelei had left her a bit sick to her stomach and she put off her thoughts of forming any new relationships, be they intentionally short lived or not. 

Besides, she was happy, well, content, for the time being. 

But with mead running through her veins and her heart seemingly perpetually occupied… there were plenty of men around her that she could find… useful.

“Sigyn,” though Master Gry wasn’t one, “congratulations again, young lady.” 

Her old master approached her and she gave him a respectful hug. “Thank you, good sir, you’re looking well.”

“Thank you.” Gry nodded and bobbled his head as he was want to do. “There is something I wish to speak to you about.”

“Of course.” Sigyn smiled and gave him her full attention.

“Have you thought about seeking your Master’s mark?” the man asked earnestly.

“Eventually, yes,” she told him honestly. Harish had made her wary but she knew Gry too well to know he wouldn’t even know how to proposition a person.

“I think you should start the trials, now,” he told her in a serious yet hushed voice. 

“Now?” Sigyn blinked, furrowing her brow.

“You are well enough ready,” Gry assured her, “and your actions with the Kree are still in people’s minds. Use it to your advantage.”

“I wish to become a Master because I am worthy,” she told him even as the idea tempted her so, “not because the other Masters found a single incident memorable.”

“But it was memorable,” now he frowned, not understanding how Sigyn wasn’t getting his point that was seemingly clear to him, “and moreso, we still remember how you broke convention with the King. You became unbound and gained a title. Your weregild cases are beyond reproach.”

Sigyn was uncomfortable with the amount of praise her former master was giving her. Smiling awkwardly she interrupted him, “I am too young to be a Master.”

“Who says?” he scoffed at her. “Convention? When has convention ever served us well?”

She did have difficulty arguing that. 

“Think it about it,” Gry finally said, “and if you wish to seek your Master’s mark, I will back your application. I am sure you’ll easy find others.”

“You’re very kind, Master Gry,” she told him honestly, “and I promise you I will put great thought into this.”

The two said their goodbyes and Sigyn made her way out of the tent, across the fields, to the ferries. Did she really have what it took to become a Master already? So young and with only so many years under her belt? She wouldn’t be the youngest ever, but it was a very short list she was looking at for those who made master at her age. 

Sigyn would have to put some serious thought into applying. If she failed, then it would be an embarrassment that could ruin her. There were so many Journeyman who simply stayed Journeyman for this reason alone. 

It was only later, as she drifted to sleep, that she remembered her thoughts on gaining a male companion. She mentally shrugged, obviously it wasn’t as important to her as she previously thought it might be. And why would it? After all, what could she really offer them? She was still missing her heart.

…

Sigyn was sitting in her post, finishing yet another weregild case. Gry was right, Sigyn had an inordinate amount of them lately.

“Sigyn,” Praetor Asmund knocked on her door and she called him in. “I meant to drop this off earlier.”

She took the offered tablet and frowned, it didn’t look like a task. Instead it was a packet with forms, rules, and procedures.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Sigyn said when she realized what it was.

“Master Gry told me you’d want it.” Asmund shrugged.

“Gry,” she sighed the man’s name. He was good with numbers, not so much with tact and people.

“Are you not interested?” Asmund gestured to the tablet which was the complete application packet for requesting a promotion to Master Emissary. There was a similar one for the transition between Apprentice and Journeyman but Sigyn had skipped that process. Unintentionally of course.

“Of course I’m interested,” she wasn’t going to deny it, “but I fear he’s gotten ahead of himself. I’m nowhere near ready to be a Master.”

“Hogwash,” he waved his hand at her, “I’ve seen dozens become Master and not a single one of them actually knew everything. Master Bojd still knows nothing about trade law.”

“Really?” That was news to Sigyn, but then… “Master Bojd only does property transfers and estate planning.” 

“Exactly.” Asmund nodded his head. “Some know a little about a lot, some know a lot about a little. The point is, they prove that they can be trustworthy and capable with the tasks they are given. And Sigyn,” the man smiled at her, “we all already know that you’re the most faithful to ever walk the halls of Asgard.”

“The most faithful?” the words sounded foreign yet sweet on her lips.

…

Sigyn had been kicked out of the library. There was an event going on and so the area was closed to those not involved. So that is how she found herself sitting at the pub as it was a quiet night. The Summer Solstice was nearly upon them again so everyone would find themselves outside, drinking in the wonderful weather and the glittering sky.

“See,” she heard Thor’s voice from across the room, “I told you she hadn’t been kidnapped by dwarves.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Fandral laughed and she looked up to see the whole group of them wonder over. 

“So much for a quite night to myself working,” Sigyn sighed and closed down the display she had open.

“Sigyn,” Sif frowned at her, “if you truly wanted a quite night, you would not have come here.”

“I think she’s got you there,” Thor laughed, grabbing Volstagg and heading over to the barkeep who was already pulling drafts.

“I suppose I secretly desired a break,” Sigyn admitted and packed up her belongings to make room for all the mead and food that started to fill the table over the night.

After a few days of thought, Sigyn had decided to go ahead and attempt her bid at becoming a Master. Boldness and semi-stupidity had served her well so far. But becoming a Master was not a simple nor quick process, taking typically three seasons from start to finish.

For the past season she had filled out her application, listing all that qualified her for the task. She had to gather up transcripts and files, then write small dissertations about the events that led her to this moment. Normally the application would also include the packet created for the Journeyman application. Sigyn simply included a partial transcript in that section:

Odin: I believe you called me a fool.  
Sigyn: No, my lord, I called you a contented old man who allowed foolish things to occur, calling your kingship foolish was neither explicit nor implied.

Sigyn figured there was no point in going into the incident further. The words spoke for themselves. As Master Gry said, it was still in people’s minds and not likely to be forgotten any time soon. 

She was near ready to submit the application. She figured she would do so after the Summer Solstice race. The race itself would clear her mind and give her fresh eyes for one last look over. It would also be their forty-ninth win (if they won) and it would put them that much closer to sixty.

But for that night, she was going to sit and enjoy the company of her friends.

A fight broke out, this surprised no one.

It was a good natured bout and Sigyn cheered on the warriors. When they were finished, they picked themselves up and downed rounds at the bar as fast as the barkeep could keep up with them.

“How’s the application coming?” Loki asked as he sat down across from her at the benched table.

“I think it’s more complicated than the Kree peace treaty,” she frowned but then couldn’t help a little laugh. 

“Ah, yes, bureaucracy,” he nearly snorted the word, “my dear brother is going to find himself buried under it one day.”

“Give Thor a little credit,” she told him with a grin, “he’s smart enough to know to heed your council.”

“Most days.” Loki shrugged as if he was remembering a current event that she was unaware of. Shaking it off, he turned to her. “But for today, you needn’t worry, my dear Sigyn. As I told Master Gry, you will make a fine Master Emissary.”

“Thank you.” Sigyn was never quite good at taking compliments. This is why it took her a second to ask, “When did you speak with Master Gry?”

“Oh, ah,” Loki feigned like he was having trouble recalling but Sigyn knew better, “it was at some function.”

“The last Summer Solstice,” Sigyn replied both helpfully and drolly.

“That might have been it,” he answered and gave up, letting his grin slowly form on his lips.

“Loki,” she closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands, “you set this up.”

“You make it sound as if this was one of my tricks full of precision manipulation,” he laughed, swinging his mug of mead wide, “all I did was talk to an old man.”

“You planted the idea that I could make Master,” she accused him, “then had him come to me to sow that seed.”

“I didn’t tell him to do anything,” Loki took a draft of his drink and said quickly, “I made him think it was his idea.”

“It is the best way to get what you want,” there no appreciativeness to her tone as she mocked his second favored way of manipulating people. The first of course being his ability to lie while speaking nothing but the truth. 

Loki frowned at her. “Why are you so upset? Don’t you want to be a Master?”

“Yes,” she nearly shouted the word, “but when I’m ready, not because you couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

“You are ready, Sigyn,” he waved her off. “You know you are ready. You just needed a gentle push.”

As much as she wanted to hate Loki in that moment for manipulating events, again, she couldn’t form a complete and valid argument against him. Had she truly believed she wasn’t ready, then she wouldn’t have started the application. She would have admitted she needed more training and waited. 

“Give me your word, Loki Odinson,” she said sternly as she met his gaze, “give me your word as a Prince of Asgard that you will not touch, or manipulate, or even so much as breath a hint of trickery when my application goes in for review, and then when I am tasked and shadowed.”

He regarded her for a long moment. “You want to be sure that when you get your promotion to Master, which you will get, that you did it completely on your own.”

“You can understand that, can’t you?” Sigyn spoke evenly but there was a slight plea to her voice.

“Good thing I had nothing planned,” he smiled at her, a strange and rare honesty on his lips. “You have my word, Journeyman Emissary Sigyn, Serpent of Asgard, that whether you succeed or fail, this will be all on you. I have played my part, my job is done.”

…

While the paperwork was complicated, the process was quite straight forward. Once Sigyn put in her application, all nine-hundred some-odd pages of it, it was reviewed by a panel of Masters. It usually took half a season for them to come back with a decision. If accepted, then the applicant is given a Master’s task to complete. While they were working on the task, they would be shadowed by a completely separate Master who’s own task was to observe the Journeyman.

If the Journeyman messed up too badly, then the Master could step in and finish the task. This would be an automatic fail. If the Journeyman finished the task, then the Master would write up his findings and present them to another panel of Masters who would review them. 

Complicated, but straight forward. 

This seemed to be a defining trait of Asgard.

Sigyn’s application was of course accepted. By the time the next Summer Solstice came around, she was being shadowed by a Master. Her task was, of all things, a weregild case. At first she worried that they gave her something they knew she could handle to make it easy on her. This idea was completely struck down when she got the facts of the case.

It involved a very prominent family, a dismemberment, a commoner, an affair, and, of all things, a duck.

There was a lot of pressure to just make the whole thing go away, but Sigyn was not about to compromise her scruples for the sake of convenience. Even if she didn’t have her Master’s mark on the line.

But it was a long process and it took her into the next Summer Solstice. This would be her fiftieth win and she wasn’t going to miss out on it. Even if she did have her Master’s mark on the line.

Fandral nearly launched himself off the flyer after they docked he was so pleased with himself. They had the last run of the day and knew instantly that they had done it. Ten more wins and they’d beat the long standing record of fifty-nine wins. Victory was getting so close, she could taste it.

“I admit,” Master Lamont said as he sat beside her at the feast, “I had never seen a race until today.”

“Never?” Sigyn tried not to frown at the older man seeing as he was her shadow and therefore taking note of everything she was doing.

“Never thought it was interesting,” he admitted with a shrug, “still don’t.”

“We all have our hobbies,” she replied in a congenial tone. 

“Indeed,” he refilled his wine goblet, “they keep the mind from going addled.” 

“Verily,” Sigyn added sagely.

Sigyn had been tempted to skip a year of racing, even though that would end their winning streak, so she could focus on her Master’s task. Quickly she squashed that idea. If becoming a Master meant giving up one of the few pure things in her life, then it wasn’t worth it. Hopefully she showed Master Lamont that she could multitask her life and her work as she began to do extra training sessions with Fandral closer they got to the Solstice.

In a few days she would be presenting her findings to the parties involved in the weregild case, including the duck. Then Master Lamont, provided he accepted her weregild proposal, would write up his own findings.

By the following Winter Solstice she’d know if she was right to stay on the path Loki had nudged her onto.

She took comfort in knowing that even if she didn’t make Master… she’d always be a Serpent.


	26. Mistress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I know a lot of stuff happened in the past few chapters. I kinda feel things may have went too quickly but some of these subplots really deserve their own stories. Perhaps in the future I can do them better justice.

Mistress

Honestly, the duck was in the right, but try explaining that to a spoiled and wealthy Asgardian noble.

In the end, both parties had to accept her weregild settlement which Master Lamont himself called ‘an ingenious workaround’. Sigyn tried not to get her hopes up once Lamont sent his findings for review. There was too much that could happen as the months turned cold and the winter snow began to fall. 

It was on such a snowy day that Sigyn was called to one of the main meeting rooms in the Emissary building. She had been shopping with Sif in the main market when the message was received.

“Sigyn,” the Lady tsked, “you look as if your favorite sword just broke.”

“I didn’t think I’d be this nervous,” Sigyn admitted as she clenched her hands, her stomach churning.

“You talk flippantly to the king,” Sif crossed her arms, “you offer a dagger to a Kree, and you fly so fast that simply watching you can make one air sick.”

“I’m beginning to think everyone is right,” she nearly laughed as she rubbed her head, “perhaps I did go mad all those seasons ago.”

“Then madness suits you.” The warrior was not one to smile much, but she did so. “Now, you best head over there, or must I carry you?”

Sigyn narrowed her eyes at her. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Sif raised a single brow.

“Going,” Sigyn said as she rushed off, a laughing Sif behind her.

…

“To the Lady Sigyn,” Thor bellowed as he held his mug high, “Master Emissary and Serpent of Asgard.”

Upon hearing of her successful promotion, Thor, Sif, the Warrior’s Three, and of course Loki, decided that was cause enough to celebrate as if they had just won a mighty battle. Her brother’s showed up, Sven getting into a drinking contest with Thor and thoroughly loosing. There was drinking, there was fighting, and there was so much merriment that Sigyn found herself wondering why she had ever been nervous in the first place.

Her life had been strangely charmed up to this point, she was worried when her luck would run out.

“See,” Loki walked up beside her, “did I not say you’d make Master.”

“I will not let your gloating spoil my moment,” she punctuated her point by grabbing a flagon of ale off a barmaid’s tray as she passed.

“I wouldn’t dream of spoiling your moment,” Loki gave a slight curtseyed nod towards her.

“Yes you would,” she nearly snorted, “but only if you gained something in return.”

“True,” he seemed to see no point in denying it, “but it would have to have been something fairly spectacular.”

“Oh?” Sigyn said over the rim of her mug as she drank. 

“I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, my dear Sigyn,” his words were simple, possibly honest, it was always so hard to tell with a man who traded truth as lies, “and now you have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“Not everything,” she couldn’t stop herself from replying as she once again pushed down feelings for the prince. Why was it so hard to get over a silly crush? Why couldn’t she just take back her heart?

It would help if she actually tried.

Loki looked at her curiously and expectantly, though she could see the shrewdness in his eyes. 

“I haven’t broken the racing record,” Sigyn clarified, covering herself with the truth. Loki had taught her that trick, whether he realized it or not. “And I am also in need of an assistant.”

“Ah, yes,” Loki chuckled, “you’ll be stuck with an Apprentice Emissary.”

“I was an Apprentice once,” she reminded him.

“I don’t think that helps your case,” he responded with an upturn to his lips.

Sigyn was about to give a flippant reply, but after she had a moment to think about it, she let out a sigh, “Valhalla save me…”

…

After settling into her new office, which was an actual office in the Master’s hall of the Emissary building, Sigyn began taking bids for an Apprentice. As a newly minted Master, she couldn’t expect to receive much more than a dozen or so applicants. The fact that she got four dozen was quite astounding.

Near half of them she rejected easily as they were individuals who, though young, were already too ambitious for their own good. The other half she weeded down by asking if she could be as much help to them as a teacher as they could be to her as an assistant. It was near heartbreaking that she had to make such decisions.

“This will be your work area.” Sigyn showed her new Apprentice the small wooden desk at the side of the room.

“But, Mistress,” the girl frowned at her, “Apprentices don’t get desks.”

“Trust me, Leah,” she assured her, “your life will be much easier with it.”

Leah tucked a lock of long black hair behind her ear as she glanced around the room. The girl was young but already she knew how to hide her keenness behind false timidness. “I should move it over there,” she pointed to the other side of the room, “where the light is better.”

“Yes, you probably should,” Sigyn agreed as she held her grin in check. She left the desk in the darkened corner as a test, to see just how bold her new Apprentice was. 

The raven haired girl reminded Sigyn a lot of herself… Valhalla help them both.

“You have the morning to arrange it as you like,” Sigyn told her as she went to her own desk, “but I need you to go to the archives after mid-meal.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Leah nodded and started to examine how best to situate the desk.

“And Leah,” Sigyn sighed, “I know it’s technically the proper term, but please, don’t call me Mistress.”

Leah didn’t seem to exactly understand why Sigyn had made the request but she was not going to argue over it. “Of course, Master.”

That was better, but only marginally. “Just call me Sigyn, or Emissary if you must.”

“Yes, Emissary.”

…

“Much improved.” Sif was admiring Sigyn’s new home.

After a few seasons of getting settled into a new office and having an assistant, Sigyn thought it was time to move into rooms more befitting of her station. It was in the same dormitory building but on a higher level and took up half the floor. She had a proper kitchen, separate dining area, and two extra rooms she could do whatever she wished with.

“Still unpacking though.” Sigyn grimaced as she gestured to the few boxes that littered the area. 

“You’re a busy woman,” Sif waved off her worries, “Fandral won’t shut up about the upcoming Solstice race. This will be your fifty-sixth win.”

Sigyn chuckled, “I swear, if he could convince me to sleep on the flyer he’d have us out there every waking moment.”

“He will try,” Sif smirked at the thought of their friend, “do not let him succeed.”

“I won’t,” Sigyn assured her as she noticed the box of barbs sitting on a low table in the sitting area where she had sat it with the intent to store it later. It was closed, so as long as she didn’t draw attention to it, then the secret would remain safe. “I have plenty to keep me busy.” Sigyn instead gestured to her work tablets piled up on the dining table. “Apparently I’m becoming the go-to Emissary for weregild cases.”

“And this surprises you?” Sif was not even remotely surprised by the tone of her voice.

Sigyn frowned, “Not as much as it probably should.”

“How about your own weregild case?” Sif gestured over to a stack of boxes in the corner, in the middle was the ornate case that held what was once to be her wedding dress. “Are you still seeking absolution?”

Sigyn was struck by the fact that she hadn’t thought about Theoric in… when had she last thought of Theoric? Was it just after the incident with Par-sell? Then perhaps a fleeting thought now and again?

“No,” she replied softly as she realized the weight of his death didn’t feel as heavy as she once thought it was. “I’m happy, I’m making something of my life, that’s what he’d want.”

That is what Sigyn chose to believe.

…

“Nice to know some things didn’t change when you made Master,” Embla said as she and Sigyn watched several Journeyman pass out, unable to keep up with the mighty Thor.

With her promotion to Master, Sigyn decided it was time to attend the Royal Ball as befitting her station. The food was better but it was decidedly more boorish, no wonder the warriors would find themselves wandering about. This night, Sigyn tagged along and, true to form, they ended up at the Journeyman’s ball, drinking and feasting much to everyone’s delight.

“I told you they weren’t here for me,” Sigyn told the woman drolly.

“They, perhaps,” Embla gestured over to Loki with her eyes, “but him?”

Sigyn sighed, “Don’t tell me the rumor that I am Loki’s mistress has returned?”

“I’m sorry,” Embla frowned without sorrow, “but it never really left.”

…

"No pressure," Fandral had pulled his gloves off only to put them right back on again, "but we can't lose this one."

"We'll do fine, cousin," Sigyn assured him as she finished wrapping up the last plait of her considerable hair. They were standing in the small tent next to their dock, getting ready for the last run of the day.

"Of course we'll do fine," he rocked a bit on his feet, "but we have to win."

"Fifty-nine times we have ran this course," she used a clip to secure the braid, "and fifty-nine times we have won, we shall do so again."

"We’ve tied the all-time record," the man continued to waver between nervous and giddy, “and if we fail—”

"We won’t fail," Sigyn, finished with her hair, put her hands on her cousin’s shoulders, "we're the best team out there, we just have to stay focused."

"Focused, yes," Fandral would calm down once they were in the air, it was the anticipation that he was having trouble with, "I'll go start the pre-check."

"Good idea." Sigyn smiled at him, needing to finish getting ready. She was nervous too but she held it inside for the sake of her cousin.

Fandral left through the front flap of the tent and she turned to the small mirror that was propped on a trunk. The tent wasn't huge, just large enough to sport a table and some supplies.

Her battle honor tucked safely under her dress, Sigyn slipped on her racing coat and secured the buttons. There was a rustle of fabric as one of the tent flaps moved aside, someone entering. They weren't trying to be sneaky about it and she saw the man clearly in the reflection of the mirror.

"Come to wish me luck?" she asked him, grinning slightly.

"It's quite the contrary, actually," Loki walked disinterested around the tent, "I'm rather hoping that you'll fail, or at least come in second."

The prince’s words were a shock to Sigyn, that he would speak so callously. She turned around, arms crossed and brow stern. "Do you now?"

"Yes," he paused, leaning against the table and glancing up at her, "you see, everyone expects you and Fandral to win, so there is coin to be made if you don't."

"You don't deal in currency, Loki," she rolled her eyes at him, walking towards him to snatch her gloves from the table, "you deal in favors."

The prince shrugged. "A bet is still a bet."

"Is it now?" Sigyn wasn't very subtle in checking over the gloves. "You wouldn't stoop to sabotage would you?"

"I'm offended you would even suggest such a thing," his body language belied his words, but there was enough truth in them. Loki could sabotage the flyer, but there would be no way to hide it. Fandral and Sigyn would be allowed to rerace within the fortnight and should they have the fastest race, their time would stand and the record broken.

"Well then," she crossed her arms again, trying to gauge his mood, see what he was playing at, "I hope you don't think I'll throw the race for you," she couldn't help but add, "because I still have your life in my hands."

Loki chuckled, standing up straight so she had to look slightly up at him, "You know I'd never ask that of you."

"Then I'm afraid you're going to lose your bet." Sigyn gave him a mocking frown, though she knew it couldn't be as easy as that. The man in front of her always had a game to play, rules were optional.

"Perhaps." Loki lightly shrugged, his eyes searching hers as he prepared his next move.

She saw the motion as he brought his hands up to her face and she did nothing to stop it. His lips touched hers and her body nearly collapsed in shock. His hands were horribly gentle as he caressed the edges of her chin. His were lips infuriatingly soft as they played against hers. Pressing lightly, his tongue ran across her bottom lip.

Finding her hands curling into the fabric of his coat, she pulled him closer and deepened the kiss. She wasn’t sure what she expected him to taste like, but fresh mountain snow was a pleasant surprise. 

Moments later, though it felt like an eternity, Loki pulled away. Both of them now trying to cover up the sudden quickness in their veins.

"I..." Sigyn straightened herself up, clearing her throat. Loki was trying to distract her, she wasn’t going to let him. "I hope you don't think so proud of yourself that a single kiss could throw me off my game."

"No, I expect not," he was fighting a grin on his face, his eyes unable to hide his emotions, so he backed away from her, towards the exit, "but we'll see."

"Yes," she tried to keep her breathing even, "we shall."

Loki grabbed the flap of the tent to leave, looking back at her with a devilish grin that was far too enticing. "You do realize, my dear Sigyn, you kissed me back."

He was gone before his words had a chance to hit Sigyn. It was true, she had kissed him back. She could still feel him on her lips and her fingers hurt slightly from where she dug against the leather and metal of his coat. After all this time of denying him their first kiss, she realized just how much she had been denying herself.

It was easy to squash desires when you could fool yourself into thinking your fantasy was much better than the reality. Now that she had a taste of the prince she wanted more, no, she wanted it all. She didn’t want to think about how much of a bad idea that would really be. 

The Serpent and The Liar.

But who was the Serpent and who was the Liar? 

She wasn’t even sure anymore. 

"Sigyn," Fandral was beside her, she hadn't heard him come in, "you ready?"

For a moment, Sigyn had forgotten the whole reason she was standing in the tent in the first place. The race! Loki had done it, he'd successfully and thoroughly distracted her. It could cost her the race.

No, no it certainly would not. Loki knew her better than that. Once Sigyn was in the air, it was just her and the flyer. Nothing could distract her in the moment. 

So why did he kiss her? Why now? 

Sigyn closed her eyes as she realized what he had done. He had waited, patiently, for her to be at her happiest. For her to be in a moment where she had everything she could ever hope for. Then he offered her more and she greedily took it. There would be no denying her desires after this point. No longer could she hide behind the pretense of wanting only a friendship. Her actions spoke for themselves.

With one swift deed, Loki had stripped her of all her defenses. 

All he had to do was be patient… because when he was patient, he was absolutely lethal.


	27. Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild Trigger Warning: I'm not going to say that that Loki/Sigyn is a completely abusive relationship, but it's not 100% healthy either. Loki is controlling and manipulative by nature and also has a temper as we've seen in the MCU. Sigyn has her own baggage. So while I have an interesting take on how both of them approach this budding romance, in the end it doesn't hit all the major signs for an abusive relationship. But some of the things that do happen, especially taken out of context, could be triggering. Loki is possessive and controlling, but of course Sigyn isn't gonna stand for that crap, mostly.
> 
> This goes for the rest of the story. Sorry, this is my first AO3 story. I should probably go update the tags. This tag system is kinda new for me. :(

Games

"ANOTHER!!" Sigyn and Fandral shouted, smashing their mugs on the table.

Dozens of voices echoed the call, their friends, family, and fellow flyers scattered about the feasting tent. After the cousins had won the race, all of Asgard having cheered them on, it had been one celebratory moment after another. Even the King deemed it necessary to present the winners with their gold tokens.

Thor slapped Fandral on the back. "Now, if we could only work on how you fair on the ground."

"Aww!" The man tried to look offended but was entirely too happy at that moment to care.

Sigyn laughed as she finished off yet another mug, her blood seemingly thinning as the potent brew worked through her system. Never one for excess, this was a special occasion and she threw the mug into the air to let it land where it may. Another was placed before her and she grinned as she lifted it to her lips.

Sixty times in a row they had won the race, now they held the record, this was reason alone to remember this day.

Loki's lips still haunted hers, his words leaving her vulnerable, this was reason alone to try to forget.

The younger prince hadn't been there to greet them when they landed at the dock. She didn't see him at all until farther into the festivities afterwards. He came in quietly, cleverly taking his place among their friends as if had always been there. His smile and laugh were subdued, nothing out of the ordinary really. But when by chance their eyes would meet, there was a sparkle in them she could not deny.

She tried to ignore his presence but it felt as if the room was empty save for the two of them.

Oh why did he have to kiss her… it was so perfect… it ruined everything…

The sun had started to rise and her cousin was passed out at the table along with several others, including Sven. It had been a grand celebration, at least six fights had broken out in her general vicinity. More than enough mead had been drank.

At one point Loki moved away from the table, talking to others, leaning lazily against a post. The person he was speaking to shuffled away and once again she met his eyes. Feeling emboldened, she took that moment to rise from her seat. She had to walk over two comatose individuals and around several others, to reach the man.

"We won," she offered by way of greeting, smiling broadly.

"It was close," he felt the need to point out, "you lost time on the first leg."

"But we still won," the mead was making it difficult for her to put on a more serious expression.

He playfully frowned. "It was your slowest time in over thirty races."

"Still won," she stepped closer to him, trying to whisper, "I hope you suffered a... significant loss."

"I might have," he gave her a look that made her question if there was ever a bet to begin with, "but it was worth it, don't you think?"

"You think you're so smart," she poked her finger against his breastbone, then found herself battling an overwhelming desire to once again grab a hand full of fabric and pull him against her. Although she had no idea what she'd do with him once she had him as there were far too many options.

The mead had addled her brain and by the time she realized she had been standing there, her hand awkwardly floating between them, her words trailed off and it was too late to recover. Drawing herself up, she couldn't decide if now she wanted to kiss him or slap him. Sigyn was all manner of confused, even more once the drink got involved, and his damn eyes and the slight upturn of his lips did nothing to help.

Perhaps she should just give in to what she was feeling? It was so very tempting to just lean forward and kiss him again, forget all the reasons why that would be a bad idea.

Their bodies got that much closer to each other and she experienced a light-headedness that had nothing to do with the ale running through her veins. Staring into Loki's eyes, all she wanted to do was drown in them. 

Just as Sigyn thought Loki was going to kiss her again, those eyes widened slightly and he pulled back, fighting a grimace. Something then caught his attention and he looked past her, lightly shouting, "Sif."

This confused her even more and she started to feel cold, coming down from a rush she hadn't realized she’d been having.

"What now?" Sif came over, blood slightly smeared across her chin. Sigyn barely remembered a fight the woman had gotten into earlier.

"The Lady Sigyn has appeared to have drank considerably more than she is used to," Loki told the warrior, that upturn back to his lips.

Sigyn was going to argue this point. Yes, she had drank considerably more, but she was perfectly fine. Then Sif laughed and thumped her on the back. It wasn't a very strong gesture, but suddenly Sigyn didn't feel well, at all.

"Would you please see her back to her chambers," he asked Sif, glancing back at Sigyn, "before she does something she may regret later?"

"I've never regretted anything in my life," Sigyn replied defiantly, though she was definitely starting to feel the effect of too much mead.

Loki smiled at her, a strange mix of coyness and sadness. "There's a first time for everything."

...

Sigyn and Sif sang drinking songs at the top of their lungs as they made their way back to her dormitory. They only got into one fight along the way. Well, Sif fought and Sigyn sat down and cheered her on while trying not to pass out.

It galled her that Loki had been right, she had drank too much and her mental facilities where in question. If he had asked her back to his chambers, she very likely would not have argued. It was no secret to herself that she had desired the man for so long, but all those reasons to stay away from him had simply bubbled away into smoke.

Part of her was glad he was honorable enough not to take advantage of her.

Another part whispered that he simply didn't want to win like this.

Everything was a game to him, she was nothing but a prize to be won.

Sif had propped Sigyn up against a chair as she pulled down the covers of her bed. The woman then came over to help Sigyn out of her heavy coat. "You and Loki looked to have been having a rather interesting conversation."

"Oh,” Sigyn blinked, trying to help with the buttons but her fingers had seemingly turned to mush, “just me putting him in his place, as usual.” 

"As usual indeed." Sif continued to smirk, pulling the coat off her shoulders which nearly made Sigyn lose her balance and fall over. "I'm honestly surprised you never sought a relationship with him."

"Me? With Loki?" The room was very dizzy and Sif held her upright. "He's manipulative and sneaky and always has an angle."

"And you love it." Sif popped the release on Sigyn's corset, letting it fall away, then guided her sit down on the bed. "Sometimes you get this look in your eyes… it's positively indecent."

"No I don’t." Sigyn laid her head down, cuddling up against the pillow, her face full of frowns, her mind full of haze. Her hidden battle honor digging against her skin. "Do I?"

"Practically," the woman snarked lightly, pulling the covers up over her.

Sigyn's eyes drifted shut, her body tired, but all she could think about was Loki and if it was worth getting tangled up in the trickster’s nest of tricks and half-truths?

"Why do you live so far from everyone else?" Sif groaned and Sigyn could hear her walking around the bed.

"Most of the Emissary’s live here," she mumbled, her body going slack, "we like to be near the Bifrost."

"Bah," there was a clank and then she felt the bed dip beside her, "I'll share your bed tonight."

"You are welcome to it," Sigyn mumbled as her mind still raced with questions. But soon the mead won out and the darkness that was sleep overtook her.

She dreamt of flying... and falling… and a kiss still lingering on her lips.

…

The kiss had left Sigyn confused, her intellect battling her heart. For every good reason she could think of to let herself succumb to his charms, she could think of a hundred why it wasn't a good idea.

Ultimately he would break her heart, of this she was sure...

But it would be worth it, no?

Did it really matter? Loki had left her vulnerable, she could no longer deny her desires. He was a hunter who had wounded his prey, so why hadn’t he come to finish off his kill? 

That would be too clean, he obviously had something more elegant in mind.

Before the Solstice, Sigyn was tasked by Odin himself to facilitate the sale of a world in the Midgardian realm which Asgard had laid claim to eons ago. It was an uninhabited world and the Vanir were interested in settling and expanding their reach into the massive realm. Odin was not terribly opposed to giving the Vanir the land, as long as a respectful bargain was made in return. So he called on Sigyn to do her duty as a Master Emissary and broker the deal knowing she would insure that Asgard would receive more than adequate compensation while still being fair to the Vanir.

Four days after the Solstice race, Sigyn would be traveling to the planet in question with her apprentice, a bursar, one of Asgard’s ambassadors to Vanahiem, and a few other bureaucratic types. Not to mention the travel maidens who would attend to the hearths. 

But as it the planet was uninhabited, it could possibly be inhabited by those of a less than reputable reputation. Odin felt that a cadre of soldiers should be sent with the group. He also thought that this could be yet another good learning opportunity for his sons. Thor, however, became unavailable the day before they were to leave as he had to stay on Asgard because of some issue with training new soldiers.

Sigyn didn’t need to be told the full details to know that Loki had something to do with this unfortunate turn of events.

When the entire group met at the Bifrost, it was the first time Sigyn had seen Loki since the feast. He did his duty as acting commander of the troops, making sure they were squared away. Then he addressed the ‘civilians’, giving the usual speech that amounted to politely telling them not to be idiots. 

What maddened Sigyn the most was that he acted as if the kiss never happened. Mostly. He treated her as he always did, as a friend, but there was a glimmer in his eyes that told her he was simply waiting to make his next move. 

Or maybe it was Sigyn’s turn to play?

The trip thankfully went rather plainly. Then the initial meeting with the Vanir dignitaries was about as expected. The two peoples were friends and the purchase of the world was pretty much assured. It was simply a matter of exchanging the required pleasantries as the negotiations would start the following day.

The soldiers and the travel maidens were quick to set up the tents and establish a camp. As the Vanir were the 'hosts' of the meeting, because they wanted something from the Asgardians, they were responsible for the evening feast. It was bad form to speak about the topic at hand during the opening feast so much of the discussion seemed to be nothing but gossip from around the nine realms.

Sigyn still did not like to trade in gossip, but politely participated, trying not to be distracted by Loki sitting beside her. If he wanted her to make the next move, he was going to be disappointed. She could be stubborn when it suited her. She wanted to see what the prince would do, just how much he had planned ahead.

"I've posted a guard outside your tent, my dear Sigyn," Loki told her once everyone began to retire for the night.

"It hardly seems reasonable," she spoke as they walked side by side through the camp, "to keep a solider up all night when we have seen no sign of bandit nor feral creatures."

"Well," they stopped outside her tent, the guard at attention just off to the right of the entrance, "one can never be too sure," he reached forward and pulled open the flap, "one never knows what kind of devilish fiend may try to make their way inside uninvited."

"The devil never comes in uninvited," Sigyn looked at him square in the eyes, his face full of nothing but hidden mischief, "he always finds himself an invite."

She could have sworn his eyes actually twinkled. "I'm sure he does."

Damn it, Sif was right, Sigyn enjoyed this part of Loki entirely too much.

...

This was to be a learning experience for Loki, to sit in on negotiations and get a better understanding of inter-realm politics. Loki was already fairly good on that topic, Thor would have benefited more. So Loki sat off to the side, fighting boredom from what Sigyn could tell.

At least he did not feel the need to interject every few sentences or otherwise get in her way. Many of the other nobles could be that way, feeling as if they had to take part in everything, even if they had nothing to do or say. Loki, and even his brother, seemed to understand the wisdom of not speaking when one has nothing probative to add. 

Sigyn was especially glad for this as their first meeting was merely to establish a basis for the negotiations. The Asgardians stated what they had, then the Vanir stated what they wanted and what they would pay for it. Clarity was always key, it was the utmost importance that both parties understood exactly what they were getting. Questions were bounded back and forth and the Vanir responded to every query from Sigyn by downplaying the value of the planet.

Though there was one point that they failed to mention more than once and Sigyn found this odd.

"Our report indicates that this world has been unstable," she waved her hand and a geological map appeared above the table, "fissures have formed to the east of here."

"We are aware of the fissures," the Vanir negotiator, a man by the name of Jorg, nodded sagely, "as I mentioned before, the last few hundred years saw some volcanic activity which, while now ceased, has made some areas near unlivable."

"While providing a very rich top soil in others," she countered pointedly.

"Well," he smiled at her the only way a trained barterer could, "the planet has to have some value or what would be the point?"

"Indeed," she returned his smile which held just as many hidden meanings.

...

There was no bread shared between the two groups on the first night as, again, this was bad form seeing as negotiations had just started. No one wanted to be accused of creating undue influence on the other party via a healthy plying of mead and meat. Sigyn always appreciated these more civilized meetings, it allowed her much more time to deal with important matters.

"I shant be long, I don't think," Sigyn told Leah as she fastened her boots, "but if anyone comes calling on me, you know what to do."

"Yes, Emissary," she nodded, nearly curtseying.

Sigyn grabbed her satchel and laid it across her shoulders, mentally checking that she hadn't forgotten anything.

"Lady Sigyn," she heard Loki's voice from outside the tent, "may I have a word?"

Grimacing at his horrible timing as it would be incredibly rude to ignore a Prince of Asgard, Sigyn quickly swiped her hand across her body. The riding outfit of trousers and coat turned into the dress she had worn previously to dinner. Satisfied with her illusion, she called out, "Enter."

Loki pulled back the flap, ducking slightly as he made his way into her modest tent. Well, it was rather lavish by most respects as it was the height of Asgardian technology and motif. It was warm, solid, free of insects, sound dampened, and could take several hits from standard projectiles. But unlike most of her fellow Emissaries, she did not feel the need to have more room than required, enough for a bed and a desk, and neither where those opulent in any way.

"Prince," she addressed him formally seeing as he had entered her 'chambers' as it were.

"Lady," he replied back just as properly, glancing slightly at her apprentice who knew enough not to move or speak until told to do so. Sigyn would not ask her to leave anyway. And not because it would be scandalous to be alone with the prince in what was essentially her bedchambers.

No, Sigyn couldn't get that stupid kiss out of her head and she was sure he was banking on it.

"Oh good," he said after a moment scrutinizing her, "I'm not late. I was afraid I might’ve had to chase after you."

"Chase after me?" she replied bluntly.

He smiled, holding back a laugh as she obviously took his statement out of context, which was likely its purpose. "You're going to look at the fissure, aren't you?"

Sigyn didn't bother to hide her intentions from the man who was smart enough to have figured them out. "It was the way Jorg always seemed to skirt the subject directly."

"Yes," he nodded, trying to look thoughtful but there was that slight upturn on his lips.

"It seems like such an inconsequential thing," she continued, "to spend so much effort to avoid."

"My thoughts exactly," he slapped his hands together, "so, shall we be going?"

She raised a single brow, "We?"

"You don't think I'd let anyone under my charge," he sounded downright honest though she knew it was just words, "let alone a Lady of such import as yourself, go through the woods at night without escort?"

"I can take care of myself." Sigyn was not at all amused by his reasoning, even if it was just a cover for his true motives. “Or have you forgotten all our training sessions?”

"How could I ever forget?" Loki gave her a soft smile. "But no, I cannot in good conscious let you go alone."

She tried to hide a smirk. "Since when has your conscious ever been good?"

"It's always been good," he was mock-hurt, then grinned, "I just don't always listen to it."

"Now this I believe." Sigyn lightly rolled her eyes and looked away.

"Come on, now," Loki held out his left hand to her, "I even have a perfect alibi set up for us in case we are caught."

Sigyn eyed his hand warily. "I thought you never got caught?"

"Get caught doing what?" His innocent words played on his lips but not in his mischievous eyes.

She debated with herself, but ultimately the truth was he’d probably chase after her anyway. Reaching out with her right hand, she clasped his outstretched one. In some ways, that simple touch seemed much more intimate than the kiss they had shared.

Now they were going off, together, alone, into the woods.

It was safe to say Loki won that round of whatever game they were playing…


	28. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)

Mine

After sneaking out of the camp easily enough, Sigyn and Loki made good time on their way to the closest fissure. They had brought no flyers with them to the planet, only the horses they rode through the Bifrost on. Sigyn would always prefer flyers but she was a capable enough rider. 

By the time they made it to the nearest fissure the sun was down and the air had gone cold. Sigyn's jacket and trousers kept her warm but Loki hadn't bothered to put on anything heavier than his usual green and leather coat, seemingly unbothered by the chill. Noting this made her remember that moment in her chambers when he commented on how he preferred the cold, his torso bare save for the bandages… 

"Just up ahead." Sigyn turned her attention back to the reason she was out there in the first place. Loki was becoming more and more of a distraction. She felt like a school girl again, discovering a new crush. 

“We should carry on by foot," Loki said as he came to a stop. The terrain was turning too rocky and steep for the horses, as well trained as they were.

The two of them carefully picked their way down the side of the slope into the fissure as far as they dared. It was warmer there, the air tinged with an odd smell, volcanic gases still wafting from the ground. Despite this, the area seemed rather stable, as if whatever had caused the land to shift had gone dormant for another thousand years.

"I wonder if I miscalculated." Sigyn tried not to frown as she peered father into the crack in the ground, nothing but darkness below. The fissure was made of basic bedrock, the whole area rather unremarkable.

"That would have made us both wrong," Loki's voice echoed slightly, "and I am never wrong."

Sigyn frowned at him, making a pinched face. 

"There has to be something." Loki grew frustrated and walked further down one side of the ledge they had found themselves on.

Not wanting to believe she was wrong, Sigyn was at least able to accept the possibility. She moved along the ledge in the opposite direction, stepping over a few crags and going across a narrow jut of stone. She grabbed onto the rocky side of the fissure for balance, then decided to simply lean against the outcrop and close her eyes.

What was she missing? Perhaps Jorg simply believed the fissures to be inconsequential to the task at hand? 

But that would have made him a horrible negotiator. Had Sigyn been in his shoes, she would have used it as a bargaining chip, stating that such large fissures were dangerous to people and livestock. Exclaimed at the annoyance of the scars as they cut through farmland. Anything and everything to drive down the price...

Something tugged at her neck.

Sigyn bolted upright from her position very quickly, glancing around at all the shadows.

"Loki," she whispered harshly, "where are you hiding?"

Nothing but silence answered her as her eyes searched for his hidden form. The man was good, but there wasn't much room to work with on the ledges of the fissure. How could he have gotten away so quickly without disturbing the rocks around her?

So... if not Loki playing a trick?

Sigyn leaned back against the rock again. After only a few seconds she felt the tug at her neck but this time fought down her fight response. The tugging continued and she realized it was the battle honor, tucked under her layers of clothing, which was moving.

Popping the top button of her jacket, she managed to pull the honor up from under the fabric and undo the clasp. She studied the serpent motif as it laid in her hand, its shine sparkling mutely in what little light filtered down into the fissure. She tried not to think of all those seasons ago when Loki gave it to her after the incident in the Skathi cave.

She told herself she wore it as a badge of honor... but was that truly it? Of course not.

Holding the battle honor up by the chain, she moved it closer to the wall. The connection was weak, but once her knuckles were nearly brushing the stone, the pendent tugged towards the rock.

With a satisfied grin on her face, she moved back down the ledge towards where she and Loki had split up. She continued in the direction he went, calling his name softly.

"Sigyn?" he said as he came walking towards her, his steps just as careful as hers.

"I figured it out," she replied, holding the battle honor to the stone once again, "see how there is an attraction."

Loki leaned over slightly, seeing the item latch itself against the wall of the fissure. "There must be small traces of glepnir in the bedrock."

"Pushed up from the planet’s lower crust during the eruptions," it seemed like the only logical conclusion to Sigyn, "and that probably polarized it, which is why this piece, from a different source, carries a different magnetic field."

"There could be untold amounts of glepnir in the other fissures," he agreed, standing up straight and smiling down at her, “but we'll need a thorough geographical study to know for sure.”

"Which is exactly what I'm going to ask to be done." She couldn't help the self-satisfied grin on her face. "I knew there was a reason he was avoiding the topic, who knows how much raw materials there are to be mined?"

"Told you I’m never wrong." Loki crossed his arms, also grinning.

Rolling her eyes, Sigyn gestured back towards the slope that would get them out of there. "Come on, we should get back."

"After you." The man nodded, glancing at her hand that held the battle honor.

Sigyn paused, debating if she should put the item back around her neck or shove it into her pocket. Loki now knew for certain that she wore the honor he had given her. That she still wore it after he had kissed her. Sigyn had made herself even more vulnerable and this time she only had herself to blame.

Deciding that shoving the item into her pocket was the quickest solution, Sigyn turned and headed up the slope. They mounted their horses and started the trek back to the camp. Loki did not inquire about the battle honor, they simply discussed how they would broach the subject of the glepnir to the Vanir. 

The Dwarves had a near monopoly on the metal, not that the Asgardians cared as they only had a few uses for the material. As strong as it was, their smiths tended to use more malleable metals in their work. Plus glepnir was not nearly that good at carrying a charge. But the Vanir would be very pleased to have their own mines instead of having to barter with the Dwarves. 

They decided that selling the planet would still be in everyone’s best interests, but the terms had now changed.

“Anyone come calling?” Sigyn asked Leah as she entered her tent stealthily, Loki following.

“Just the Bursar, Emissary,” the girl stood from where she was sitting, reading. “He wrote up the payment package for you to authorize.”

Leah handed over the tablet she had been reading, a slight embarrassed tint to her cheeks. Leah was a curious one but seemed to know when it was improper to snoop. The girl hadn’t known much magic when she started as her apprentice, but Sigyn soon corrected that. The bursar would have thought he was speaking to Sigyn, giving her the tablet directly. 

“Thank you,” Sigyn took the tablet and laid it on the table, “but it’s moot now. The price point has gone up.”

“You found something of import?” the girl asked, looking at her expectantly.

“Very much so,” Sigyn grabbed one of the geographical maps, “but it’s late. You should get some rest, I’ll need you to go to Asgard in the morning.”

Leah nearly asked why but stopped herself and nodded. “Goodnight, Emissary.”

“Goodnight,” Sigyn told her before bringing up the map so that the holographic image floated above the table. Then her apprentice left, sneaking out so she could go to her own smaller tent.

“The seismic activity only affected this part of the hemisphere.” Loki stuck his hand in the map and moved it around. “We need not ask for a survey of the whole planet.”

“But as I already mentioned,” she frowned as she looked at the display, “if we focus on the area with the fissures they will know something is up.”

“This is true, yes,” he agreed, resetting the map back to the default display.

“I think we should just be honest,” she finally admitted, “tell the Vanir that we know about the glepnir.”

“Really?” Loki frowned at her. “That would damage our bargaining power.”

“The Vanir are our friends,” Sigyn turned to face him, crossing her arms, “what would we truly gain by trying to trick or manipulate them? Bitterness and anger is not worth any extra coin.”

“As always, you make a valid point.” Loki conceded to her with a nod of his head. “I shall follow your lead, Master Emissary.”

“Thank you,” she spoke as if it was a forgone conclusion. Loki may be a prince, but she was in charge as far as the negotiations were concerned.

“Well,” he brought his hands together, “it’s getting late. I should be going.”

Sigyn suddenly became quite aware of the situation she had found herself in. She had sent Leah to bed knowing she would run the girl ragged tomorrow on errands. She had let Loki into her chambers so they could both look at the map and decide on the final plan of action. 

Now it was just her and the prince.

“You should,” she did her best to keep her voice devoid of the emotions she was starting to feel. Staring up into his eyes, she never knew if what she was seeing was Loki being truly attentive and caring... or if it was the product of precise calculations and trickery.

Could either of these things be separated?

Loki raised his hand slowly, gently reaching forward to brush against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as her heart ached, his single touch reducing her to hot tears. 

Her body trembling slightly, she felt his fingers brush away the liquid from her face. “Why do you cry, my dear Sigyn?”

“Because you’re a bastard,” she choked out, managing to look at him again. They were in this position because he had planned it that way. She was a pawn in his game, an animal caught in his trap.

His brow was furrowed in confusion and worry. “I only ever wanted you to be happy,” he almost spoke the words as a question, “doesn’t this make you happy?”

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips gently to hers and she couldn’t fight her reaction. She kissed him back. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and deepened the action. All her pent up desire for the man surged forward and she found her body flush against his. 

There was no more trying to hide how much she wanted the man. He knew her true desires, he craftily uncovered them with a strategically timed kiss. Then he got her alone, outside the safety of familiar surroundings, so he could press that advantage.

Letting go of the leather, Sigyn balled her fingers into fists and started to weakly push at his shoulders. Her body didn't want to break contact with his, but he understood the gesture and stilled his lips against hers. Instead he placed a single kiss to her forehead as he cradled her neck in his hand.

"I gave you my heart, Loki," she bit out as she held back a sob, "why must you play games with it?"

"What game is that?" he asked softly, tilting her head so he could look into her eyes. "You want this, Sigyn, so why deny it?"

"Want and need are two different beasts," she responded as she was finally able to pull away. Putting distance between them, she felt strangely cold.

"One does not preclude the other," he countered with a slight edge to his voice, but he did not move from his spot. "Why must you be so stubborn?"

"I do not have to explain my actions to you," she told him emphatically even as a war waged inside her. Once she went down that path with the prince, there would be pleasure, insurmountable pleasure even, but there would be so much pain.

Serpents and Liars.

Poisoning each other with the truth.

“You are _mine_ , Sigyn,” he said roughly and her body clenched in anger. She may have given her heart to him but she was not a possession. For him to go and say such things—“And I am yours.”

The words had been so small and vulnerable Sigyn couldn’t believe they ever came from Loki’s lips. But he had said it, clear and concise. She turned to read his face and gone was the stalwart man she knew. Instead he wore his fear and confusion on his face. He had surprised himself by saying those words.

“I am yours, Loki,” she felt weak but her voice was strong, “and you are mine.”

The confidence seeped back into his features and he nodded at her, acknowledging that what he said was true. It must frighten him, Sigyn realized, to say such things and mean it. Loki was a man of possessions: _his_ mother, _his_ brother, _his_ dear Sigyn. To give ownership of his self to someone else? 

It was perhaps the closest thing to a true declaration of love that she could ever hope to receive from the man.

“This is a mistake,” she breathed as she began to move towards him.

“Probably,” he agreed, his eyes locked on hers as one stalks prey.

“You’re going to break my heart,” the words nearly brought her to tears as her body brought her closer to his.

“Most likely,” there was that touch of a grin to his face. He knew he had won, but his eyes spoke of emotions neither of them could fully understand.

Sigyn knew better than to entangle herself with Loki Odison, Prince of Asgard, Silvertongued God of Lies and Trickery.

Knew. 

But no longer cared.


	29. Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, I swear I was Loki'd. 0.o
> 
> I push a bit on the T rating, but I don't get explicit. This is stuff you can get away with in a PG-13 film so I figure I'm okay.  
> And again, mild trigger warnings for controlling behavior.

Fate

Loki grasped her neck, tilting her head so he could press his infuriatingly soft lips against hers. His other hand snaked around her waist to pull her flush against him. Sigyn was nearly paralyzed by the raw hunger in his motions, the prince not bothering to hide desires that had likely been building for years. Tugging her riding coat, he traced down her neckline with kisses before nipping at her pulse point, softly declaring, “Mine.”

Sigyn’s body betrayed her venomously, screaming as if it was on fire and Loki was the cool lake she would gladly drown in. Never had she felt this way, not about Theoric, not in the loneliest of nights, not in her dreams. It was as if her body existed solely for this moment in time: to be consumed by the prince in every possible way. 

“Damn you,” she growled, grabbing the lapels of his coat to drag it from his shoulders.

Loki chuckled deeply, moving back just enough to give her access to remove his clothing. Unaccustomed to the prince’s unique style of garment, her fingers fumbled with his buckles and catches. His hands were not idle as they divested her of her coat, leaving her in her riding outfit of blouse and trousers. 

“We don’t have to do this, tonight,” he said just above a whisper, his voice more emotional than she had ever heard. She had stripped him down to his trousers and boots, his lithe, muscular body quivering under her touch. Loki’s own hands where balled into the fabric of her blouse as if he was stopping himself from ripping the thing apart to get to her. 

The prince was trying to be considerate, to make sure he didn’t assume that they would go straight to the bedchamber. 

Or was he?

_Making them think it’s their own idea is the best way to get what you want._

Loki is a manipulator, it’s what he does. 

Had he said the words he needed to say to finally break her, knowing that she would be suspicious of any declarations of love?

Was he letting her take the lead to make sure she was comfortable, not wanting to force himself on her?

Did he only stop now, willing to play the long con, knowing she would never let him near her again if he didn’t respect her boundaries?

Was she truly beloved of the prince who didn’t want to treat her as a common whore?

Was she just a conquest… the prize he finally won?

Did he lie, cheat, and manipulate so much, using the truth as a vicious weapon, that maybe he was finally being honest with her but she was unable to tell the difference?

Sigyn realized there was no point in trying to discern the answers. 

Whispering the word, “Mine,” she ran her fingers up into his hair, pulling his lips down onto hers.

This was her fate.

It always had been.

She understood that now.

…

The next day Sigyn and Loki carried on as if nothing had happened between them. She went before the Vanir and requested a full geographical survey be done to determine how much of the glepnir was minable. The Vanir feigned suitable innocence in knowing about the metal and Sigyn let it slide. The Vanir were friends of Asgard, and even she could not fault them at least attempting to score the planet at a bargain price. She’d still be reasonable with them, that needn’t change.

This of course meant that they would have to wait a few days for the survey to finish and then reconfigure the sale price. The trip was going to take much longer than previously planned. So while Sigyn worked through the days deciding how much minable glepnir was worth, her nights were filled with no thoughts but Loki.

To everyone else, the two seemed as cordial as ever, the friends that they were. They even had a few meals in her tent, of course Loki left before such a time as it became scandalous. Though somehow he always ended up back in her bed.

Loki, she quickly learned, was a very controlling lover, no matter what position they took. He reveled in hearing her come undone, her screams tearing her throat raw in the thankfully sound dampened tent. Sigyn had no complaints was more than happy for him to take the lead and guide their lovemaking. 

Though once she couldn’t resist holding back, biting her lip and refusing to scream his name. At first she worried this would make him angry but he simply went after her with a heightened fervor and a wicked grin. In the end, she found his name on her lips.

In the back of Sigyn’s mind, she was cautiously blissful. Finally giving in to her desires, she had never felt so… at peace with herself. But what of Loki? What was she truly to him? She wanted to believe he loved her, in his way. But there was no ignoring the fact that she could simply be a prized stallion who he finally tamed, finally broke.

It was too late now, her fate was sealed, and she would accept it with the pose and honor befitting the Serpent of Asgard. She would not let Loki humiliate her if he decided to make his win public, though she chose to have faith that he had enough respect for her not to do so.

The morning they were due to return to Asgard, Loki lay sleeping beside her. Sigyn was propped on her side, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest. 

Sigyn couldn’t help but think back to the Skathi serpent’s cave, watching him sleep then, though for entirely different reasons. He had been so sick and ashen, his face sunken in slightly with clammy, bluish skin. Not to mention much younger, much less confident. 

In the scene before her, Loki extruded confidence and power. His agile form hiding strength and sureness. His hair had grown out some, it touched the nape of his neck when slicked back but it was now a mess, drifting over his eyes and giving him some air of mystery. That perpetual grin he wore was there, softly tugging at his slightly parted lips. 

Whatever happens next, this is how she wanted to remember Loki. Should he break her heart, smash it to stardust and feed it to a black hole, she would always have this moment to remind her why it had been worth it. 

Better to have loved than lost…

Sigyn leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, searing the memory into her brain for eternity. This awoke the sleeping trickster who seamlessly joined her ministrations, his hands going to her waist to pull her closer, nearly on top of him.

“Good morning,” she smiled at him, trying to hide the sadness from her eyes.

“Indeed it is,” his kisses went down her neck, his words muffled, “how early is it.”

“Early enough,” she moaned against him as his hands reminded her of just how manipulative he could be.

The prince hadn’t been able to spend every night with her. They both had work that needed to be done on the trip, not to mention they were hiding their new relationship. But when he did, she noted he was much more relaxed and languid in the mornings. He didn’t make her scream, but his name did end up falling from her lips like a mantra.

When they were finished, they both laid on their backs, pleasantly exhausted. Sigyn turned her head towards Loki whose eyes were closed. They were going to have to get up soon, he would have to sneak back to his tent and they would return to Asgard. What would happen then?

“You’re staring.” He frowned slightly, not moving.

Sigyn decided that if her heart was going to be broken then best not fight it. “I am wondering what will become of us once we return to Asgard.”

Loki frowned again, this time in confusion, turning his head to look at her. “I would imagine a lot more of this.”

“I meant…” she turned her head away, suddenly fearful of a possible truth, “nevermind.”

The man was quiet for a moment before propping himself up on his side. “The lady is at a loss for words, I’m not sure if I should be pleased or fearful.”

“Do not mock me,” she said, despite knowing what he meant.

“Don’t let yourself be so easily mocked,” he threw back at her flippantly.

“You are a master of lies and manipulations, Loki.” The flood of bliss in her system finally parted to reveal the damage beneath. “Do not think me a fool for at least considering that now that you’ve had me you will move on to your next challenge.”

“What did I tell you about assumptions,” his nostrils flared, his tempter rising to the surface quickly, and that is how she knew she had struck deep, “now who thinks so highly of themselves?”

“I hold no illusions of myself, Loki,” she sat up in the bed, instinctively covering herself with the sheet, “nor do I of you. What assurances do I have that you won’t get bored of me as you do so many things?”

“What are you after?” He also sat up to face her. “Are you just another of the common court rabble, chasing a title?”

“I have a title, thank you,” Sigyn spoke proudly, “I need no others and certainly I don’t need anything from you.”

Their eyes locked, full of stubbornness and anger. Loki reached out and she flinched slightly, believing she might have pushed him too far this time. Instead of attacking her, he grabbed the back her neck and pulled her forward, violently covering her mouth with his own. Using his strength, he forced her down onto the bed, his body covering hers. She tried to fight but he grabbed her wrists and held them over her head.

“Listen well, my dear Sigyn,” his breathing was labored, hot, and drenched in emotion, “you are mine, you have _always_ been mine and you will always _be_ mine,” his eyes bore down into hers, “that is assurance enough that I will never bore of you.”

Then just as his anger peaked, he realized what he had done. He let go of her, sitting back on his haunches, straddling her stomach. Taking one of her hands gently, he kissed the wrist. “That was uncalled for, but you’ll forgive me this transgression. I needed you to understand.”

Sigyn steeled herself to her fate, to be burdened with loving a man such as Loki Odinson. “I am yours, my prince, and you are mine.”

The prince slowly rose his eyes to meet hers. “You are mine, my dear Sigyn, and I am yours.”

…

“You’ve done well, Lady Sigyn,” Odin commented after he listened to her short report on the proceedings, “but I expected nothing less.”

“Ensuring an at cost rate for any possible imports of glepnir was particularly shrewd,” Frigga said as she stood next to her husband.

“I always have Asgard’s best interests at heart,” she replied with a nod. 

“Yes,” the King returned the nod, asking, “and did my son behave himself? I was afraid he’d find such a mission exceedingly boring.”

Sigyn always tried to maintain an air of neutrality around her when discussing Emissary related matters. But standing in front of the parents of the man she was currently bedding redefined awkward. 

Loki had suggested that they not let their relationship become publically known just yet. Sigyn agreed because she knew the troubles that accompanied a woman who became a prince’s ‘mistress’. She had no desire to become a prop, or for her abilities to come in question simply because of who she chose to invite into her bed. She already had enough trouble with that persistent rumor going around, why make matters worse by confirming it?

The real question Sigyn wanted answered was what did his parents believe was the truth? They of course had to have heard the rumor that she was Loki’s on and off mistress. Did they look at her and dismiss the rumors, or did they wonder if she was truly worthy of their son?

“That is his nature,” she smiled but only to hide all the other emotions swirling inside her, “but he was a gentleman and did not bother the proceedings.” 

“Good,” there was knowing looks in both their eyes but again Sigyn did not know what they believed was the truth, “and how shall you be rewarded for this successful mission completed?”

“My usual payment is all I will ever require,” Sigyn said humbly. Other emissaries in her position who found themselves at the end of such praise would work for higher and higher rewards, either of power, position, title, or property. 

Sigyn always asked for the same, enough to live modestly and comfortably so that she could dedicate herself to serving Asgard, and racing her flyer. Occasionally she’d ask for more, but it was almost never for herself, such as making sure there were no gaps left in Leah’s training. 

“Then it is done,” Odin responded having expected her words, “nothing else?”

Normally she would politely respond that there was nothing else to have, then Odin would dismiss her if he had no other task for her. This time she said, “In truth, I have grown a little tired,” she allowed a small frown to grace her face, “between the last two races and today, I have not had a day that I could call my own. I have been constantly in negotiations or training.”

“You are not done in, are you?” Frigga asked, the woman having shown much more interest in Sigyn’s work since she became Master.

“Hardly,” she assured the Queen, “but I would ask a few days leave.”

“Leave to go where?” Odin was looking at her curiously, this was the first time Sigyn had asked of such a thing. 

“To go nowhere, which is the point,” Sigyn answered shyly, “to simply have a few mornings where I can awaken with nothing to attend to and no one expecting anything of me.”

It was true, her life had gotten much busier over the past seasons. Emissaries set their own schedules so they could find time off when they needed it. But Sigyn was so popular now that what time she could make she had spent training for the Solstice races. 

Sigyn worked every day, not that she had minded, but that was before…

She needed some time to spend with Loki as they both figured out what to do with their newfound relationship. She had already added to Loki’s suggestion and asked that they not tell even their friends and family about them. This seemed to have surprised him slightly and she had to tramp down on feelings that perhaps he was looking forward to parading her to them as his prize. In honesty, Sigyn knew that everyone would start treating them both differently and she didn’t want that.

Sigyn could see Fandral turning protective of her, possibly even telling Sven who would also feel the need to defend her honor. 

She also did not want to throw the relationship into Sif’s face as the warrior woman still harbored strong feelings for a man who continued to see her as nothing but a friend.

As for Thor, there was no telling if he could keep such a secret from his parents. She simply wasn’t ready to deal with the King and Queen as their son’s lover.

Also, not that she would tell Loki, but it would be easier this way should things fall apart between them. She didn’t want to assume the worse, but she wasn’t one to go into things blind either. 

In the end, Loki accepted her reasoning and left it to her to decide when they would reveal their relationship. He wasn’t one for public affection anyway, so this bothered him little. And she felt he even liked the idea of sneaking around. He was a trickster after all, it was his trade. 

“Yes,” the King chuckled, she could hear where Loki had stolen the sound, “those days are important indeed, Lady.”

“Thank you for your understanding.” She nodded respectfully.

“Then it is decreed, Serpent,” Odin smiled knowingly at her, “nor I or any of the court will bother you with requests for a fortnight, save if Asgard’s own fate is at stake.”

“Very generous, my king.” Sigyn gave him a half curtsey. Even if she just took a day off, people might bother her. With the King decreeing she was to be left alone, she would actually know a little peace.

As she left, she still wondered what the King and Queen knew of her relationship with their son. She only took comfort in the fact that if they had believed they’d been lovers before, then they must not be against it.

Or perhaps they saw it, the Serpent and the Liar in them both, and were resigned to fate that one could not exist without the other.


	30. Privacy

Privacy

Things change, they always do.

Sigyn though was amazed at how little she had to rework her life to accommodate her new role as Loki’s mistress. For indeed she was his mistress as she was now stealing kisses in dark corners. But the prince had taken up so much of her life already, as a friend, that they simply continued on as if nothing had changed. 

The only individual privy to Sigyn and Loki’s relationship was her apprentice, Leah. Sigyn didn’t like putting the young woman into that kind of position but it was a necessity. Who else would cover for her when Loki and her decided to spend some time with each other that couldn’t be hidden behind the guise of friendship? Sigyn did try her best though to make sure that she was not putting any undue pressure or responsibilities on the girl. 

Sigyn did not neglect her duties either. She was currently occupied with two tasks of importance, but both had come to a stall as she awaited responses from third-parties. So she took this opportunity to have a mid-meal with Loki.

They sat together in the gardens, shielded by magic so as not to be seen or disturbed. Loki had stolen a spread of foods from the royal kitchens and a bottle of Xandarian wine from the cellar. Nearly two whole seasons had passed, the cold giving way to the heat, so it was a lovely, albeit breezy day. They chatted about inane things, really, it was more about being in each other’s company than anything else.

They enjoyed the privacy, to be able to be who they wanted to be, not what others expected of them.

“Something is bothering you,” she commented as he laid on his side, idly picking berries from a vine and popping them into his mouth.

Loki lifted his eyes towards her, as if he was debating if he should deny her words. He tossed the near empty vine onto one of the purloined plates, “I can trust you, my dear Sigyn, not to repeat my words.”

“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical statement.” Sigyn tried not to frown.

He ignored her, his face looking off into the distance, towards the royal suites. “You are right, my father does let foolish things occur.”

She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, knowing that Loki had a tenuous relationship with his father. It was something she had become more acutely aware of as he slowly revealed more of himself to her. All Loki wanted was to be seen as equal to his brother in the man’s eyes. But Loki was equal, he just didn’t seem to realize it. 

Equality doesn’t always mean exactly equal.

Sigyn finally settled on asking, “What has happened?”

“He’s decided Thor shall be King,” there was an oddness to his tone, jealously mixed with hatred peppered with pride, all smothered in disinterested contempt. 

“Oh,” Sigyn was at a loss now that the crown had been brought into the equation, “so soon?”

“No,” he wiped his hands on a cloth and proceeded to pour more wine into his goblet, “it’s still many seasons before the Odinsleep will come, but it will come, and Thor will be King.”

So it had been decided, when the Odinsleep came, Thor would be the one to pick up the mantle and lead Asgard. This was not terribly surprising, he was the elder-born. This was typically how it was done. Loki, however, took it as a personal slight. 

“Your brother will need you,” Sigyn stated the obvious, hoping to ease his pain, “your guidance will be invaluable. Your support, a necessity.”

Loki stilled, his eyes moving darkly beneath his lashes to lock with hers. “If I am an… invaluable necessity, then why make _him_ king?”

“If you were king,” she replied slowly, evenly, “then you would need _his_ guidance and support.” The younger prince had the makings of a megalomaniac, this was obvious to Sigyn and one of the reasons she had been wary of seeking a relationship with him. He would need Thor to keep him from becoming drunk on power. “It does not matter who wears the crown, you will both be kings.”

Finally she felt she understood what Odin had meant when he referred to both his sons as ‘born to be kings’. Thor was true and Loki was shrewd. Together, they could see Asgard grow and prosper. 

Darkness swirled around Loki as he lightly swished the liquid in his goblet, but as he stilled his hand, his mood seemed to evaporate into the air. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Sigyn held no delusions that the subject was dropped.

…

Sigyn watched as the Asgardian Warriors returned from a great battle. They all looked slightly beaten and worn, even the mighty Thor. It had taken nearly half a season for them to route the scourge that was attacking the Light Elves of Alfheim. The dispatches from the battle had gotten progressively worse and soon casualties had begun.

Her heart nearly seized when she saw the first list of fallen soldiers. It was only three men of whom she had never heard of, but someone loved those warriors. Someone would be in pain, feeling their loss. Sigyn remembered how she felt when Thor told her of Theoric, the pain and relief it had caused. 

There was the familiar glint of green, black, and gold trailing slightly behind Thor. She knew the younger prince had survived the battle but seeing him took a weight off of her heart. She dared not think what would happen should Loki fall in battle. 

Others rushed forward, blocking her view, and by the time Sigyn got through, the main group of soldiers had passed. She knew where they were going, to report in, clean up, and then feast. As Sigyn still desired to keep her relationship with the man secret, she would have to wait to see him at the feast. 

Not wishing to look too eager, she followed along with the crowd as they dispersed. She considered going to the market as she waited, but found herself heading towards the palace proper. An idea came to mind and she berated herself, wondering why she didn’t think of it before.

Loki always came to her dormitory, never once had she slept in his bed. He explained that it was just too crowded in the Royal Palace what with all the servants, his brother, and random dignitaries running about. It was near impossible to keep a dalliance secret. 

As much as it stabbed at her, Sigyn couldn’t deny the logic. So every time they coupled it would be in Sigyn’s bed… if they bothered to utilize the bed.

Using her magic to disguise herself as a servant, Sigyn made her way through the palace. The farther she got in, the more unsure she became as she had never been to Loki’s suite. She took a couple of wrong turns and had to ask for directions, after a fashion, but she finally found herself in front of a door that bore the antler crest of Loki Odinson. 

Seeing that no one was currently in the hall, she opened the door and quickly slipped inside. 

Sigyn hadn’t been sure what to expect but in the end she was not terribly surprised. The antechamber and receiving room were sparsely decorated in typical Asgardian fashion. Everything looked comfortable and functional, though without character as if it had been picked out for him by the palace staff. It was obvious he spent very little time there.

It did have a fantastic view of the cityscape as the other end of the room opened up onto a large balcony. 

Tearing her eyes away from the horizon, she saw doors to the right and left of the receiving room. She wasn’t sure if she should call out his name, servants or pages could be attending him. Opening the door to the left quietly, she saw something much more fitting of the man she knew.

The room was a study, full of books and parchments and tablets. There was nothing but organized chaos for as much as her eyes could take in. Perhaps Loki was right not to invite her there for she would likely ignore him in favor of the wonders he had likely secreted away.

Closing the door, she headed across the room, again opening the door quietly, using a sonic dampening spell. There she found the bedroom and her stomach fluttered as she walked inside. Rich greens trimmed the dark furniture wrapped in leather. His golden helm sat upon a table, glittering in the light of the overlarge windows. An opulently brocade blanket of that same green and black covered the four-poster bed made of dark mahogany. 

There was something very sensual about the room that she could not explain. It drew her in, making her walk to the bed to run her hand across the brocade. The fabric was deceptively soft, much like its owner. Pulling the blanket down, the sheets beneath were cool and almost watery in how they slipped beneath her fingers. 

“What are you doing?” Loki’s familiar voice echoed harshly and Sigyn was brought out of her trance.

She turned, remembering she had disguised herself, and dropped the illusion. Loki had been standing in the door of his wash room, clad in nothing but his leather pants, a towel around his neck. He had a few bruises down one side and a cut on his cheek, nothing that wouldn’t heal easily enough. His face was twisted in near rage that someone would bother him, but as she revealed herself, he did the unthinkable… he let his weakness show through.

“Sigyn,” he breathed, the tenseness in his muscles fading away, his eyes softening to make him look younger than his years.

“I missed you,” she said so he wouldn’t have to, moving forward.

Loki said nothing more, grabbing her around the waist and digging his hand into her hair as he kissed her. He was hungry, that was nothing new, but there was a reverence in the way he held her that surprised her. He gripped her tight, just holding her close, his body nearly trembling as the towel fell to the floor. 

She kissed him so he wouldn’t have to speak, to admit aloud that needed her. 

Eventually the prince started backing her towards the bed. His hands went to the catches on her dress but she stopped him which garnered a light growl. Grinning, Sigyn grabbed the blanket and tossed it aside, gesturing for the man to sit. 

“The great warrior has returned from battle,” she told him as he sunk onto the bed, her hands running down his chest in slow circles, tracing his hard lines, “he must be tended to.”

“I suppose he must,” Loki responded, caressing down her sides and nipping at the flesh that peaked above her dress’s neckline. 

With a deliberate pace, Sigyn removed what was left of his clothing, stripping him bare and leaving hot kisses in his most intimate areas. She then stood before him and let her dress fall to the ground, followed quickly by what few undergarments she elected to wear that day. Sigyn also removed the two pins holding up her hair, letting the tresses fall in curls around her shoulders. 

“Come here.” Ever the one to take control, Loki grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. Kissing her deeply, hands caressing every inch they could reach, they moved farther onto the bed. 

“Loki!” the name was shouted as the front door of the suite slammed shut loudly. 

Sigyn became acutely aware of her position, nakedly astride the equally naked prince. She couldn’t remember if she had closed the door to the bedroom. If she hadn’t, then it wouldn’t take long for her to be discovered.

As she turned her head to check, Loki was thinking quicker than her, rolling them. Loki was now on top, the blanket and sheet awkwardly in his hand to shield her from view.

“Loki,” the name was yelled again and Sigyn recognized it as Thor, “are you ready yet, the feeeeeeeeeeee.”

The word trailed off as Thor was witness to likely more of his brother’s backside than he ever wanted to see. 

“I’m a bit occupied,” Loki responded tersely, almost mechanically, his face scrunched in anger. 

“Right, sorry,” Thor cleared his throat, “take your time.”

It surprised Sigyn that Thor wasn’t boisterous about the situation. She would have expected a man who always took such pride in the conquests of him and his men to have made a crude comment. Or at very least used a suggestive tone. Instead his words were natural and honest. He saw that his brother was engaged in an intimate nature and recognized his intrusion.

Loki didn’t seem to see it that way.

“Honestly,” he nearly growled after they heard the door close again, “never any privacy.”

Sigyn could have pointed out that Thor had no reason to believe Loki would have a woman in his room, but elected to instead kiss at his collarbone. That soothed the prince who began to run his hand down her curves, but he quickly winced. With a bit of a grunt, he rolled onto his back.

“You need healing,” she said as she sat up, seeing his arm more clearly now. It was fairly bruised and having put his weight on could not have been pleasant. 

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Loki dismissed her concerns. But she must have worn her emotions on her face because he glanced up at her and frowned. “Do you worry for me?”

“How can I not?” she admitted, not able to keep her gaze upon him. “You are a great warrior. One day you will go to battle and not come back.”

“I have your heart, my dear Sigyn,” he spoke softly, idly twisting a curl of her hair, “and I were to fall, it would parish along with me.”

Closing her eyes, she tried not to cry at the truth. It was so much easier not to worry before, not to feel the stab of anxiety, when Loki wasn’t hers to lose. 

“But I can’t fall, my dear,” he took her chin and made her face him, even though she refused to open her eyes least the tears escape, “because you have my life. It ends when you deem it so.”

That made her look at him, the strange earnestness in his voice filling her with dread and hope. “Your life is mine, my prince.”

“Yes it is,” his words were low and his eyes intense. “I can’t die. You won’t allow it.”

It had been a long time since the Skathi cave, but the events there still held true. 

“No, I won’t ever allow it,” she affirmed with a kiss. He pulled her onto him and their lovemaking began anew, only this time subdued and reverent. 

She had his life and he had her heart. 

Some would call it ‘mutually assured destruction’. 

They’re not wrong.


	31. Jealously

Jealously

Just because they broke the record, Fandral and Sigyn didn’t stop racing. No, they wanted to continue their winning streak for as long as the fates would allow. 

“Sixty five!” Fandral shouted as he launched himself off the racer, throwing his arms up in triumph. 

“Well done!” Thor greeted him with a slap on the back. Then the prince looked up at Sigyn who was descending via the ladder. “And you, Sigyn. You two make a mighty team.”

“I bet we can make it to a hundred,” Fandral had that scheming look on his face.

“A worthy goal!” Thor agreed and Sigyn was left a bit breathless.

Forty Five more wins? 

Dare she dream so big?

The two were carted off to the feasting tent to receive their tokens. Fandral had three belts worth now and Sigyn had turned hers into a multi-tiered necklace. It was getting a bit ridiculous, but it was a mark of her skill and she wore it proudly during the feast. Her other battle honor was tucked safely under her racing clothes.

As always, the group of friends drank and feasted, but soon dispersed through the room. Sigyn spoke with her brother for a bit, he and his wife were expecting yet another child. They were considering having even more but it was rare for Asgardians to have more than three children. It had become the cultural norm to only have one or two. Not because they couldn’t but because of their long lived nature. Her family was a rare exception with four children. This is likely where her brother got his own inclination for having a larger brood. 

Sven was eventually dragged off by his oldest who was still very much young but oh so very rambunctious. 

She then scanned the room for Loki, finding him standing between Sif and some other fellow. The prince was either trying to keep a fight from breaking out, or starting one, she couldn’t be terribly sure. 

He glanced at her and there was a subtle tweak to his eyes that she had grown to recognize. She wondered if it was too early to leave the feast and it look suspicious? If she left, Loki would be right behind her. 

“Lady Sigyn,” she heard her named called and she turned to see one of her fellow pilots.

“Ah, Trygve, is it?” Sigyn recognized him from around the racer docks, his team was new.

“You know my name,” his brows shot up in surprise, “I feel honored.”

“You came in third,” she pointed out, “in your second race. Of course I know the names of all my competition.”

“I don’t know how much competition I’d be,” Trygve replied back shyly as he composed himself, “Stig and I weren’t even able to top your qualifying time.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage in due course,” Sigyn tried to keep the words supportive instead of patronizing.

“Thank you.” The pilot nodded, catching her intent. “I, ah, was thinking of investing in the new control mod.”

“Oh,” she waved he hands slightly, “don’t waste your coin.”

“You don’t like it?” Trygve frowned, almost as if his feelings were hurt.

“It’s perfect for a battlefield flyer,” she admitted to him, “but not a racer. I’ve always said, the more manual the control mod, the better.”

He drew his brows together, his throat giving off a bit of a hum sound. 

“What?” she asked him when he looked to be lost in thought.

“I’m trying to decide if I should trust you,” Trygve again frowned, looking at her thoughtfully, “or are you the kind to steer the competition in the wrong direction?”

“Ignoring the fact that I am one of Asgard’s most trusted and faithful,” Sigyn reminded him as she crossed her arms, “what’s the point of a competition if there is no competition?”

The man looked suitably ashamed. “My apologies.”

“Apology accepted,” she nodded her head then looked back across the room for Loki. He was now standing to the side as Sif thoroughly pummeled the man from before. Unfortunately she couldn’t catch his eye again because he was whispering something to Volstagg who was laughing with a mighty roar.

“You use the 1600,” Trygve continued on, “do you not?”

“Yes,” it was well known by now, “and I will continue to swear by it.”

“Then perhaps that is where I will throw my coin.” He smiled at her with a little nod.

“You should probably test several of the mods and see what works best for you,” she pointed out with a slight raise to her brow. “If you’re more heavy handed, then the 1800 may be a better fit.’

“Yes, of course,” he responded awkwardly.

“Trygve,” Sigyn nearly frowned, “something on your mind?”

He opened his mouth and paused, then sighed, “I honestly came over here to ask you to dance but my words failed me,” he gave a shy smile, “you knew my name and I lost my resolve.”

Sigyn was so used to dealing with the surety of Loki that she was at a loss as what to do with the shyness of Trygve. In the end, she settled with the truth, “If you wish to dance, I’d be happy to oblige, but, I must let you know, I don’t get involved with fellow racers.”

“You don’t?” He frowned.

It was a decision she had made long ago, before she threw her lot in with Loki. “When two individuals share the same passion, it can make great friends, but horrible lovers.”

“That isn’t always the case though,” he tried to argue, “for that passion provides a connection.”

“For some, perhaps,” she had seen it, rarely in her opinion as it typically fizzled out, “but I know myself. If I were to spend too much time with another racer, especially a pilot, then I would likely slaughter them in their sleep,” the phrase just fell from her lips and while Sigyn tried not to be a violent person, it felt true. 

Trygve blinked a few times. “I see now why they call you Serpent, milady.”

Sigyn smiled proudly. “I have my moments.”

The two pilots chatted for a little bit longer once all pretense had been dropped. Trygve had the makings of a formable opponent, but he lacked the experience. He didn’t come from a flyer family as she had and only recently discovered his love for the sport.

But she caught Loki’s eye again and this time he gave her a subtle glint of confusion. Why hadn’t she left yet? 

“It’s getting late,” she told Trygve during a pause in the conversation, “or early. I think it best I get home before the sun starts to come up.”

“Which will be soon,” he chuckled and nodded. “Let me walk you to the ferries.”

Sigyn raised a single brow at that.

“I simply want to speak to you longer about the 1600,” he replied as the meaning of his actions weren’t lost on him. “You’ve made your stance clear, milady. I would be a fool not to head your words.”

“Yes, you would be,” she responded dryly. “But the 1600 is my weakness, so, you may accompany me to the ferries.”

They walked out of the feasting tent, Sigyn only catching a glimpse of Loki standing amongst the Warriors Three. But Trygve asked a technical question and her mind instantly had no thoughts save her control mod. 

“Lady Sigyn,” Trygve turned to her as they waited for the next ferry, “would you mind if I came by your racer tomorrow and had a look at this vaulted 1600?”

“Now it is I who wonders if I should trust you?” Sigyn crossed her arms and furrowed her brow at him.

“I admit that I would like to get to know you better, milady, if only as a friend,” his words seemed genuine if not a mocking echo of Loki’s from long ago, “and that does contradict my desire to also finally defeat Asgard’s greatest pilot and boatswain.”

“Life is full of contradictions,” she knew more than most. “But yes, after mid-meal, come by my dock.” It was a decision she did not come by lightly. “If you are serious about defeating me, you best come prepared to learn and with nothing else on your mind.”

“I promise you, milady,” he smiled at her, placing his hand over his heart.

“Good,” she said just as the next ferry pulled in. 

Sigyn boarded the ferry while he stayed on the dock. He seemed like a nice enough fellow and if he was serious about respecting her wishes then he could even make a decent friend. She simply had no pilot friends other than her brothers. It would be nice to have someone to speak to on pilot specific matters who she wasn’t related to. 

She’d give him a chance to prove he had no ulterior motives. If he did have such things, well, Sigyn was more than capable of taking care of the situation. 

When she got to her dorm, she put away her racing clothes and tokens, slipping on light silken robe. The battle honor hung from her neck and she picked it up to catch the light. She often wondered if Loki had made her into the Serpent, or had she been one all along and simply needed time to shed her first skin.

“I should be disturbed,” she said quietly into the semi-darkness of her bedroom, “at how easily you find your way into my chambers.” Sigyn turned to see Loki leaning up against the threshold. “I never gave you the access key.”

“You’re only noticing this now?” Loki grinned as he straightened up and stalked towards her.

“No,” she breathed as his fingers danced across her neck to dig deep into her hair.

He pulled her into him, barely brushing his lips to hers. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No,” she mumbled and kissed him, only to have it harshly returned as if he was trying to brand her. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Loki picked her up enough to drag her to the bed. 

Other than always needing to be the one to take the lead, Loki didn’t seem to have any particular style that he favored. Some nights he could be soft, composed. Other times he could do things that would make most blush at the thought. On occasion he’d dominate her, marking her flesh as if to prove she was his.

This seemed to be one of those nights as he had her screaming in both pain and pleasure until she forgot where the line was between. And when he was done, he’d curl up beside her and hold her, mumbling words of endearment. She never thought herself capable of such things, but she trusted Loki. 

Well, she trusted Loki in this regard. He was still the Liar, the manipulator, and the trickster. 

In the morning she found him lying naked on what had become his side of the bed, the blanket thrown off as he couldn’t sleep if he was warm. Her own body ached mildly, nothing a warm bath wouldn’t correct. So she kissed him before slinking away to the wash room. It didn’t take him long to find her there and they spent a languid mid-morning together.

“We could have mid-meal in the gardens,” Loki suggested when they were done and finally getting dressed.

Sigyn had picked out a high collared dressed to hide the evidence of Loki’s branding. It would disappear after a day. “How about for evening meal? I have to go by the dock. I’m meeting up with Trygve.”

“Trygve?” he said casually as he was pulling on one of his boots. “The pilot you were talking to and kept me waiting for?”

A cold chill ran through Sigyn at the implications of his words as he held a possessive nature. “Trygve is just a fellow pilot. I told him point blank we could be nothing more than friends.” She nearly winced at the phrase, knowing how many times she had said it to Loki.

The prince looked up at her with a curious glint in his eyes. “You seem rather defensive, my dear.”

“I would just hate for something… unfortunate to happen to him,” she replied, afraid of what danger she might have put the man in simply for talking to him and enjoying a conversation.

“You think I’m jealous?” Loki barked out a laugh. “Oh, my dear Sigyn, I think you just insulted yourself.”

“Excuse me?” A flash of anger hit her. “Are you calling me undesirable?”

“Of course not,” he waved her off as he stood, that grin on his face, “I know for a fact you could have had any number of men, or women, in your bed after you were freed from your… obligations.”

“Yes,” she tried to say proudly but his reaction was not one that she expected of the possessive man, “I could have.”

He leaned towards her, hands clasped behind his back, whispering lowly, “But you didn’t.”

“I…” she was going to rattle off the excuses she had given herself, but none of them seemed to hold water once she was made to put them into words.

“You see, my dear Sigyn,” he straightened up and took her chin gently in his hand, “it’s as I told you. You’ve _always_ been mine. Even when you couldn’t admit it aloud, you knew.”

Sigyn swallowed hard, closing her eyes. “You have my heart.”

“That I do.” Loki’s fingers snaked behind her neck to bring her into him, his lips dancing against hers. “You’re the only one I can trust, Sigyn. I know you would never give yourself to another. You are mine, no one can take you away from me.”

Now she understood what he meant by insult. That she would think herself capable of cheating on him was an insult to her faithful nature. Loki had no reason to believe Trygve, or anyone, could distract her from the truth: she belonged to Loki, then, now, and forever. 

Sigyn sighed into his lips, “I am yours, Loki. I will always be yours.”

The prince kissed her deeply, pressing her to him. He moved down her jawline and whispered into her ear, “I’ll have you know, I nearly dragged your into your prep tent after your race.” His voice was husky and raw. “I’d been wanting to sink my teeth into all night. Making me wait…” he chuckled, “it was the most pleasurable kind of cruel.”

Her eyes popped open and she renewed their heated kissing, nearly dragging him back to the bed. It was near shameful what he had done to her, turned her into. But she had only herself to blame.

“Now, now,” he tsked playfully as he extricated himself from her arms, “you wouldn’t want to be late.”

“Right,” she cleared her throat and tried to calm her quickened blood as he moved towards a chair where his jacket laid strewn. There was no denying she truly was his, her body seemingly wanting everything he was giving. But was she giving him everything he wanted? A sudden wave of insecurity fell across her and she had to ask. “Can I trust you, Loki?”

He picked up the leather jacket and glanced lightly over his shoulder at her. “In general, probably not.”

“I know that,” she frowned at him, he knew what she was asking.

Slipping on the garment, he turned and addressed her. “Charm and romance are too valuable of a tool not to continue utilizing were appropriate,” he told her bluntly, “and it helps with the rumor mongers, keeps them off our backs.”

“I appreciate your honestly,” she responded dully, not surprised by the words. Loki was a manipulator, he had tools and weapons like any other warrior. Even she was just an object to him at times.

“You have no reason to be jealous though, my dear Sigyn,” he smiled at her, “for I am yours.”

“You are mine,” Sigyn was a bit more forceful, searing the words into her soul. “Your life belongs to me.”

“And I would dare not risk it,” Loki replied with a subdued intensity. “No other will ever warm my bed but you, my dear Sigyn.”

There was an oddness to his words that she wanted to explore but now was not the time. They never talked about the future, at least not in respect to their relationship beyond the abstract. Neither had ever broached the subject of marriage or otherwise making things official and permanent. They hadn’t even told their friends about them yet.

Sigyn had no desire for a crown or a title, she only wanted Loki.

Valhalla save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I have a different way of looking at Loki and Sigyn's dynamic. Loki definitely shows he's capable of the possessive/jealous behavior, we see that in the films. He also reacts poorly to perceived rejection. Thor, Odin and Frigga were 'his family'. When he discovers that that fundamental truth was a lie, it started a domino effect of him trying to do anything to put things back as they should. 
> 
> With Sigyn, the fundamental truth is that she is his. He had no reason to react harshly because nothing can break that truth. Though if it were to be broken, then yeah... he'd probably try to commit genocide... again... goddammit Loki.


	32. Instinct

Instinct

“I’m sorry, what?” Sigyn was standing in her brother’s home as the man gathered things and threw them into a bag.

“Make sure Hammond gets to the learning center,” he told her as he finished, “and you’ll only have to watch Osmond.”

Sigyn looked over at where her two nephews were playing on the floor with toys. “Me?” her voice squeaked.

“I know I’ve never asked you to watch them,” Sven led her off to the side of the room where the boys could not hear them, “but Roa’s sister and parents are visiting off planet and the only friends we trust with the boys are on assignment.”

“Uh…” There had to be someone else, another family friend, who could watch them. But she saw the look in his eyes and she saw fear. 

His wife had fallen deathly ill during the night. The healers had come and stabilized her. However, seeing that she was in her fourth term, the child she was carrying was in danger of a pre-mature birth. They were now taking her to the nearest medical facility and Sven did not want to leave her side. Sigyn was awake, as early as it was, and he knew he could count on her to come when he called in desperate need.

“I’ll take care of everything,” she told him with confidence she did not feel. 

“Thank you, Sigyn.” He gripped her shoulder then headed out the door, following the healers and Roa who was laid out on a transport bed. 

When the door closed behind him, Sigyn took a deep breath. She had never watched her nephews, or any children, for longer than it took for someone to run the market and back. Now she was expected to care for two children, one a toddler, for an untold amount of time. 

She’d rather face down the Kree again.

Taking a deep breath, Sigyn turned towards her nephews to see what they would like to eat for morning meal. Or should she bath them first? She wished she had paid more attention to what her mother did when her younger brothers were that age, though she wasn’t much older herself. 

“Where’s Osmond?” Sigyn asked when she realized the youngest was no longer sitting with his brother.

Hammond simply shrugged and went back to playing with his floating sphere.

Surely he couldn’t have gotten far?

There was a large crash in one of the back rooms.

That couldn’t be good.

…

Sigyn got periodic updates from Sven, though she knew it was mostly for his own mental wellbeing than to actually keep her apprised of how Roa was doing. Sven was going out of his mind but he tried to hold it together. His wife would live but there was still a real danger she would lose the child. If that were to happen, Sven and Roa would be devastated.

“Roa’s parents and sister are coming back,” Sven told her over a communications device, “but they won’t be able to access the Bifrost until after evening meal. Her sister will come by and take over watch of the children.”

“I don’t want to burden her,” Sigyn said diplomatically even as she glanced over at Osmond who was playing with Leah on the floor of her office, “she might want to be with her sister.”

“The healers won’t let anyone visit for long,” Sven explained with a frustrated near growl, “I’ve spent most of my time pacing outside her room.”

Sigyn used her emissary training to be as supportive of her brother as she could. She could not fathom what he was feeling right now but she knew he was in pain. 

When their conversation was finished, Leah came up to her desk. “Emissary, I have the session with Master Kirkwood today.”

“Oh, yes,” Sigyn looked at the time, “you’ll need to be going soon.” Master Kirkwood was extremely knowledgeable in the realm of psychological counselling. Sigyn had used some of her influence after completing a task to secure Leah a few sessions of expert training in the field.

“I shall be gone the rest of the day,” the young woman looked over her shoulder at Osmond, “but I can ask to reschedule so that I may help you here.”

It was a tempting offer, but Sigyn shook her head. “No, your training is more important than helping me out with a personal matter. Valhalla knows you’ve helped me far too much with… personal matters.”

“Very well, Emissary.” Leah gave a slight bow of thanks. “Would you like me to rearrange any of your non-essential meetings before I go?”

There was a crash and both women looked towards the sound. Osmond had grabbed ahold of a small side table and knocked it over. Several books and tablets now littered the floor around a crying Osmond. The boy didn’t get hit by falling debris, but he was right cross with the fact that the table was no longer standing upright.

Sigyn looked to Leah. “Yes, please.”

…

Food.

Almost every sentient race in all the nine realms needs food.

It is a basic biological imperative.

So why is it so hard to get a toddler to eat?

Honestly.

It makes no sense.

…

For a child yet taught in the art of magic, Osmond did a wickedly impressive disappearing trick.

“Osmond,” Sigyn whispered, loudly, as she ran down the hall of the learning center after the boy. She had only taken his eyes off of him for a second as she was trying to figure out where she needed to go to pick up Hammond.

If she had to call on the staff to find her wayward nephew, she would never hear the end of it.

Turning the corner, she saw the boy had stopped at one of the large windows that lined the hallway. He had managed to climb up on a bench and had his face and hands planted against the force-field that had long ago replaced the original glass.

“Osmond,” she tried not to sound mean as she approached him, but did he kept running away from her all day. “Come on, let’s get your brother.”

As she reached for the boy, she looked outside to see what had got his attention. There was a dragon floating in the court yard, not just any dragon either. It shone of the brightest colors one could ever imagine and made out of all sorts of candies and sweets. It didn’t breathe fire but blew massive neon bubbles that sparkled. 

Several children were standing below it, waving and laughing as they each created their own little versions of the dragon. Soon the larger dragon had perched up on the roof as the baby dragons went zipping by, trailing bubbles behind them. They weren’t nearly as neatly or cleanly made as the adult dragon, but for beginners, they weren’t bad little magicians. 

“Loki?” Sigyn whispered as she saw the man walking through the children, his posture and gestures very much like one giving instruction.

Glancing back up at the adult dragon, Sigyn examined it more closely and it was indeed one of Loki’s creations. She was so used to his more realistic fair that it hadn’t occurred to her that he was capable of something so fanciful. 

Loki kneeled down next to one of the boys whose dragon was struggling in the air before him. Sigyn couldn’t really see what was being said as the prince’s back was to her. The kid looked pensive as he struggled with the dragon which came floating right next to Loki. Suddenly the dragon exploded into a small ball of light and energy, causing Loki to duck though he was obviously clipped by it. 

Sigyn’s heart stopped, suddenly fearful for the boy as she knew Loki’s temper, once triggered, always burned hot. But all the prince did was calm the suddenly tear-filled boy down with a soothing pat to his shoulders. Loki then had the child hold out his hand and after a few instructions, the candy dragon reappeared, better than before. The boy smiled and Loki tussled his hair before getting up and moving on.

She honestly had no idea what to make of the scene.

“Lady Sigyn,” a voice called her name and she looked down to her nephew but the little scamp had run off on her again.

Though this time it was completely her fault, she could admit that.

“Osmond,” Sigyn said as she twirled around, hoping he hadn’t gotten far.

“Is that this little one’s name?” the woman approaching her laughed gently.

Frigga, Queen of Asgard, the All-Mother, was walking down the hallway with Osmond propped up against her. Osmund was trying to get to the circlet that the woman wore but she playfully batted away his hand with her free one.

“My Queen,” Sigyn sounded suitably mortified as she was completely mortified. 

Sigyn thought she should take the boy but as she put her hands out, Frigga made no move to hand him over and continued to play with him. The Queen commented, “He has your eyes.”

“Oh, yes, this is my nephew,” she explained, “my brothers and I have the same eyes, our father’s.”

“A dominate trait then.” Frigga nodded then turned her attention back to the boy. 

It was a sight to see, the regal woman making nonsensical noises and swaying Osmond gently. Within a few breaths, the boy had laid his head on her shoulder and was now softly sleeping. 

“How?” Sigyn was completely slack jawed. “I’ve been trying to get him to nap since mid-meal.”

“I am the All-Mother, am I not?” Frigga gave her a shrewd grin. “I also raised two boys of my own.”

“Oh course.” Sigyn had lost most of her composure and it terrified her a bit. 

Yes, facing down the Kree with a knife to her throat sounded like a much more manageable thing to be doing. 

“You don’t have much experience with children,” Frigga asked as she moved towards the window, Osmond still sleeping, “do you?”

“Not particularly,” Sigyn admitted with a bit of a sigh as she joined the woman, “and I’m afraid I have no instinct for them either. I’ve nearly lost this one several times today.”

“Nearly,” Frigga said with an optimistic lit to her voice. “Just because it’s not an inherent skill, doesn’t mean it can’t be learned. This is true in all things.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she replied respectfully. Sigyn had little occasion to speak to the Queen outside of receiving royal tasks so such familiarity in their discussion was nearly uncomfortable to her. Not to mention the very personal and secret relationship she had with the woman’s son.

“I see it’s the candied dragon today,” Frigga laughed and gestured out the window to where Loki’s illusion was now sweeping through the courtyard again.

“Today?” Sigyn turned to the woman. “Loki does this often?”

“Depends on how you define often,” the Queen admitted, shifting Osmond slightly. “My son cannot abide the division… magic and steel. When I was your age, it was near unheard of for a man to perform magic and a woman to weld a sword outside the lower classes.”

“Now few are as deadly as Lady Sif,” Sigyn continued the thought, looking back out at the prince, “and the Prince welds both.”

“Yes,” the woman said quietly, “my sons will see Asgard change, for the betterment of all. For Loki’s part, he comes here sometimes to show the children that your gender doesn’t have to dictate your vocation,” she gave a light, happy laugh, “only what is in your heart.”

“I…” Sigyn was at a complete loss, “I never knew.”

“You probably never asked,” Frigga replied cheekily. “That is how my Loki operates.”

“This is true.” Sigyn didn’t even have to think twice to know the mother was right. “He is also quite good with the children, I noticed. Patient, even.”

“Patience is not one of his more common traits, no,” the woman admitted with a light chuckle, “but he’s patient with the children because they are trying to learn and we all start somewhere.”

“Children are full of imagination and wild-eyed wonder.” Sigyn smiled as Loki was helping a young girl figure how to change the color of her dragon.

“Indeed,” Frigga agreed and they settled into a quiet as they watched the scene before them. After a moment, the woman added, “Loki is a natural with children, he has enough instinct for the both of you to get you through those first seasons.”

Sigyn blinked as the words sunk in. Trying to keep her composure, she turned to Frigga with a perplexed look on her face, “Pardon?”

“Before we go further,” the Queen gave her a sympathetic smile and Sigyn noted that the hallway was now strangely quiet and deserted, “need I remind you that I am a Queen, a woman, and a mother.”

There was little Sigyn could argue with there. Even if Frigga was simply fishing for a confirmation of a truth, lying by omission was not the same as lying straight to her face. “I’ve been very careful to avoid any… accidents.”

“I have no doubt that both of you have taken the proper precautions,” Frigga now smiled warmly at her and Sigyn wasn’t sure what to do now. “Oh, please, where is the Serpent of Asgard? You look like you’re going to faint, my dear.”

It was more likely Sigyn was going to die from embarrassment. “This is not how I thought this subject would be broached.”

“That you and my son have been keeping your dalliance a secret?” Frigga gave her a disappointing look, but like Loki, she could barely hold the grin from passing her lips.

“It’s for the best,” of this, Sigyn was sure, “we are private individuals with a long history. We’d like to spend some time together in blissful ignorance before the Court shreds us with their rumor tipped talons.”

“Understandable.” Frigga nodded at her. “The best way to keep a secret is to tell as few as possible. Including the mother.”

“That was my decision,” Sigyn was willing to take the blame where it was due. “Loki is a prince, you are Queen and Odin King. I… I am not ready yet to be burdened with the weight that is his birthright.”

“And here I am already talking about children,” Frigga gave a tsking sound and laid her hand on Sigyn’s shoulder. “Do not fret, Sigyn, I want to get to know you better, I think you are good for my son. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured or pushed into any direction.”

“Thank you, my Queen,” Sigyn managed to utter, only slightly relieved at her words. 

“But to be honest, this is a topic that needs to be discussed,” Frigga dropped her hand so she could adjust Osmond again, “my son has always been one for complex emotions. Thor,” she let out a happy if resigned sigh, “Thor either loves something or he hates it. Loki, he has things that are precious to him, things worth fighting over.”

“But they’re still just things,” Sigyn spoke the truth she had known for a long time.

“Yes,” the woman seemed both sad and accepting of the fact. “You are precious to him, Sigyn, so precious that, if you were willing, he’d want you to be the mother of his children.”

Sigyn didn’t bother replying straight away, she doubted the Queen was expecting her to say anything anyway. When Sigyn was to be married to Theoric, having his children just seemed like part of her duty. She never really thought of herself as a mother. Again, she had no instinct for it. 

“Breath, Sigyn,” Frigga said amusingly.

“Apologies,” she replied as she regained her composure.

“It’s a heavy weight I’ve just put on you, I know,” the queen started to shift Osmond so she could hand him over, “but I have my reasons.”

“You are the All-Mother,” Sigyn said as she took Osmond, trying not to wake the boy.

“I do miss children in the palace,” she smiled and brushed Osmond’s hair from his face, “but there is something else. Something you need to be warned about.”

“Warned about?” Sigyn glanced up at the woman.

“Loki has... he has a particular genetic… irregularity,” the woman was strangely at a loss for her words and Sigyn got the feeling that Frigga may not have had this conversation before, “do not worry, it is nothing that is a problem for him, but it could cause difficulties for you should you bare his children.”

“What genetic irregularity?” This was the first she had heard of it, though she wouldn’t put it past Loki to keep anything of that nature to himself.

“I’ll explain in due time,” Frigga skirted around the subject, “but please, should Loki seek to start a family, or a pleasant accident occur, you will let me know straight away?” The phrase was a question but the Queen spoke it like a command. “It’s important to your health.”

“Of course,” Sigyn said with a slight nod of her head. Who was she to go against the wishes of the Queen, especially when those wishes seemed reasonable?

Mysterious and cagey, but still reasonable.

…

Sigyn picked up Hammond who was being utterly unreasonable because he couldn’t go see his mother and father. Even after Sven spoke with him over the communications he still did everything in his power to make the rest of the evening as difficult as possible.

Osmond was no help either.

At least she was able to get them to eat some food and cleaned up reinforcements arrived. Roa was still critical so her parents went straight to the healers while her sister, Rowena, came to relieve Sigyn of her duties. Apparently Rowena was the ‘nice aunt’ and the boys behaved for her as she promised to read to them before bedtime.

“Do not take it personally,” Rowena told Sigyn as she picked up her things to leave, “children are perceptive. They know something is happening, they’re worried, and you’re an easy target for their frustrations.”

While Sigyn was thankful for the attempt to assuage her own frustrations, this didn’t really help her disposition much.

When she made it back to her home, Sigyn used what remained of her energy to wash up. She had had several things spilled on her throughout the evening, there was something gooey in her hair, and she smelt like curdled milk. Next time her brother asked her to watch the children… she’d still say yes but at least she’d be more prepared. 

Throwing on a comfortable night dress, Sigyn nearly collapsed into her bed, not caring what time it was. She drifted off for what could have been a few minutes to a few hours, she couldn’t really tell. But she was awoken when she felt the bed dip and Loki’s familiar form slide up beside her. 

As he kissed the bare part of her shoulder, she mumbled, “I’m sorry, I’m exhausted.”

The prince paused his kisses, his hand having drifted down her hip. She rarely ever denied him but he always seemed to take it well. He shifted his body and curled up beside her properly, wrapping his arm around her. As she quickly started to drift off again, she realized his hand had come to rest on her abdomen. It could have easily been convenience and comfort that put it there, but the entire day had made the gesture come into sharp focus.

Loki would make a wonderful father. His mother, the Queen, had basically given them her blessing. And every time Sigyn thought Loki would react badly to something, he pleasantly surprised her. She had to wonder if all that time she spent keeping him at arm’s length was due to faulty logic.

Perhaps it was only she who was the Serpent and the Liar?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because if there is one thing we can all agree on, it's that Loki is a great father (and mother). 
> 
> Oh, and I said 'fourth term' towards the beginning because I have a head cannon that Asgardians have a much longer pregnancy than humans. But when the child is born, they grow rather quickly (comparatively speaking) and plateau off at stages. Otherwise they would literally be babies for decades or be old and wrinkly before their "20's".


	33. The Proposal

The Proposal

The following days were fairly tense and Sigyn found herself watching her nephews again, though this time she was moderately more prepared. Roa ended up giving a premature birth but the healers were able to support the baby girl in an incubator. Everyone was visibly relieved at the news, but none moreso than Sven and Roa.

To suffer the loss of a child? Sigyn didn't even want to think on such things.

But was it a distinct possibility? Frigga spoke of Loki's genetic irregularity. Certainly it shed light on why his hair was dark and eyes green, though that was commonly explained as recessive traits from his mother's side of the family. His own birth was shrouded in something of a mystery as well, the All-Mother having spent much of it in seclusion. It was assumed it was a difficult pregnancy.

There were some whispers now and again that Loki was another man’s child. This is why he seemed so visibly different from his parents as he must take after his true father. Or that perhaps he was actually adopted. Not that it mattered, he was still a Prince of Asgard by decree. He was also so much like Odin and Frigga, how could one not call him their son?

All these thoughts on children drove Sigyn to distraction for a few days. It wasn't as if Loki had actually broached the subject with her. He seemed perfectly content with what they had.

Sigyn decided to table the mental discussion for now. Loki was a Prince, his children would be royalty and heirs to the throne of Asgard. It was not her place to make such decisions. When Loki was ready to discuss the possibility of marriage or children, she was sure he would not be bashful about it.

Until then, she simply enjoyed her time with the Prince.

...

Near a full season later, Sigyn was called to the Royal Palace. This was not an unusual occurrence as she often performed tasks for those of the Royal Court, including the King himself. And as she was told to go to the Great Hall, she was not surprised to see Odin sitting on the throne with Frigga to his side.

"Lady Sigyn," the King acknowledged her as she approached.

Also standing at the foot of the throne were the Asgardian Ambassadors to the Nova Empire, to Xandar, and to the Kree Empire. The Xandarian Ambassador to Asgard was with them. To have all of these individuals together with the King did not bode well.

“My Lord,” she greeted Odin before turning to the men, “Ambassadors.”

After the niceties were settled, Odin addressed her directly, “Lady Sigyn, the Xandarians have a proposal for you.”

She wanted to ask if there was a problem with the peace treaty between Asgard and the Kree, that would explain why the Ambassador to the Kree was there. Sigyn held her tongue though, she would be told in good time.

“Lady Sigyn,” the Xandarian Ambassador, Kewit, stepped forward, “the Kree Emperor has finally seen fit to make peace with Xandar and the Nova Empire.”

“That’s wonderful news,” she couldn’t stop herself from saying. 

“It is indeed,” Kewit continued, he seemed cautiously optimistic, “but it will not be easy. There is so much bad blood between our empires that the road will be slow and fraught with danger.”

Sigyn well understood this. “It will be much easier to slip back into war than to settle into peace.”

“Yes,” the man nodded. “We are going to need mediators. Neutral parties to help keep both sides calm and honest.”

“That’s a wise decision,” Sigyn said as she furrowed her brows, wondering if she was reading the situation correctly.

“The Kree have agreed that an Asgardian be part of the mediation team,” the Asgardian Ambassador to the Kree Empire, a man named Bose explained, “provided that it is you, Lady Sigyn.”

“Me?” Sigyn gave them a confused expression. “They killed my betrothed, I set up the twelve percent variance, and, oh yes, I pulled a dagger on one of their generals.”

“You impressed them,” Bose gave her a smirk, “trust me, that’s hard to do.”

“It was Soran who asked for you,” Kewit interjected, “he’s one of the Kree’s main negotiators, you remember him?”

“He was at the peace talks, yes,” Sigyn remembered him well, he had egged on her attempted deconstruction.

“He believes you’ll be honest,” Bose added with a bit of a laugh. “That you’re the only Asgardian who will do what’s right for both the Kree and the Xandarians, not just the Xandarians.”

“He’s not wrong,” Sigyn said pointedly, staring at him coolly until he felt the need to clear his throat and straighten up.

“It’s a great honor they are asking of you,” the King spoke as if he was asking a question, “but, as with all honor’s, it comes with great burdens too.”

“It is highly likely that the negotiations will be attacked,” Bose explained, a more serious lit to his voice. “There are Kree, powerful ones, that oppose the peace.”

“Everything will be done to keep the negotiators safe,” Kewit added in quickly. “Most of it will be secluded and sequestered.”

Sigyn considered this, “For how long?”

“As long as it takes,” Kewit spoke as if that was the only possible answer, and he was fairly right in that assumption.

“You have responsibilities here in Asgard,” Frigga spoke up and Sigyn knew that she meant Loki, “there is much you need to consider.”

“Yes,” Sigyn agreed, to a point, “but I have a greater duty to Asgard. As a faithful Asgardian I have a responsibility to help protect those of the nine realms,” she spoke firmly and respectfully. “I may not be a warrior with a sword, but as I was once told, my words can be weapons sharper than any blade.”

Frigga gave her a knowing grin and she wondered how anyone could ever question that Loki wasn’t her son.

…

“You’re not going,” Loki told her as he stood in the doorway to the study in her home.

Sigyn had been shuffling some papers and items as she explained to the prince about the request to have her among the mediators. When he said those word she looked up and frowned at him. “I wasn’t asking permission.”

He stilled his jaw, his hand twitching at his side. “You will be in danger at every turn.”

“And so are you,” she stood tall, her hands on her hips, “when you run off with Thor and the Warriors to go fight some battle.”

“This is different,” was the only reason he gave.

“No it is not,” she replied firmly. 

“You owe nothing to the Kree,” he came forward, using his height to intimate her but he should have known better. “They killed Theoric, they tried to manipulate you, they will try to do so again.”

Sigyn stepped forward to decrease the space between them, getting up under his defenses, “And how is that different from how you’re trying to manipulate me now?”

She could see his throat twitch as he swallowed and his jaw tightened. “You are mine.”

“I am yours,” Sigyn knew what he was really afraid of, “and I will always be yours, Loki. I am not leaving you forever, I will only be gone but a few seasons.”

“And if you die,” he grabbed her arms, “slain by some foul Kree?”

“You have my heart, my prince,” she said softly, “as long as you keep it safe it will never stop beating.”

“Do not ply me with rhetoric,” Loki said harshly, releasing her and stomping off a few paces, “you learned that trick from me.”

“I have learned much from you,” Sigyn said with a smirk, “including how to defend myself. The Kree can try to manipulate me. They can try to kill me. But we both know the only one who can do either to me… is you.”

Loki paused, his back to her, right hand dangling at the side. The fingertips twitched, a sign of his rapidly paced thoughts. Sigyn let him have his time, having faith that he would come to the correct decisions regarding the situation. He simply needed time to process, to have a little patience.

“Why?” he finally asked her.

It wasn’t the response she was expecting, “Why what?”

“Why are you doing this?” Loki turned to look at her. “The Kree are not to be trusted, they killed your betrothed and tried to use it against you. Why would you help them?”

No one would blame her if she had declined the invitation for the very reasons he spoke. “The truth is simple,” Sigyn held her head high, “I am a heretic. I wish to see an end to bloodshed and war.”

“Even if it costs you your life?” Loki asked harshly.

“I am Asgardian,” she replied proudly. 

Loki watched her for a long moment, his usually expressive eyes a cold blank slate. “You’re right, you are a heretic.”

“I’m your heretic,” she said with a smile.

A grin broke out across his face, “Yes you are.”

Sigyn knew this wasn’t the end of it, even as he took her into his arms and began kissing her in that way that always ended up with them naked and exhausted. He was not happy with the situation and he was plotting. She’d had to keep a close eye on his actions, she would not let him ruin the peace talks because he had a fear of abandonment. 

But then… Loki was always one to surprise her.

…

Sigyn had told the Queen that she had no maternal instinct when it came to children. Perhaps she was simply looking at it from the wrong perspective. Wrangling diplomats had to be on par with wrangling children.

“You’re being unreasonable,” the lead Kree diplomat, Kovan, had stood from his seat, nearly yelling at the Xandarian negotiating lead, Philant. 

“Unreasonable?” the Xandarian laughed. “Need I remind you—”

“Every time you say that,” the Kree injected, “it’s the same old rhetoric.”

The two men just kept going at it, Philant now at his feet. Soran even felt the need to try to calm Kovan, while the Nova representative was urging diplomacy. The group hadn’t even been met for a few days and already the animosity on both sides was reducing the proceedings to petty bickering. Her fellow mediators having no luck in getting the situation under control.

With a tired expression, Sigyn gestured to Leah who was standing off to the side with the other assistants and pages. She whispered something to her and the girl gave her a slightly questioning look before rushing off to do as she was told. Within minutes, Leah had returned with the object that Sigyn had requested she retrieve from their rooms.

It was an older book of histories that was actually parchment and ink. 

Scooting her chair slightly to the side, she made herself comfortable, propping one elbow up on the table. She then began to read from where she had left off. It had taken a few moments before everyone had noticed what she was doing. Kovan and Philant were the last to as they were more interested in yelling at each other. Soon the room was completely quiet as everyone just stared at her with curious looks on their faces.

“Are we boring you, Lady Sigyn?” Kovan said haughtily.

Sigyn looked straight up at him and said, “Yes,” then went back to reading.

The room interrupted into shouts as everyone felt personally insulted by her actions. Even her fellow mediators were at least ‘trying to do something’ rather than sit back and read.

After a few pages, when she felt like they had tuckered themselves out well enough, Sigyn put down the book and stood. “It’s near time for mid-meal, shall I check if catering is ready for us?”

“You are highly impertinent,” Kovan crossed his arms, near sneering at her. 

“I’ve been called worse,” she smiled at the man, nonplussed. “Honestly, if you wish to keep up this peacocking then you better come up with more sophisticated insults.”

“Lady Sigyn!” Philant was aghast at her words.

“Are you defending yourself,” she looked to the Xandarian, “or Kovan? Because my insult was hurled at him.”

Philant opened his mouth but then paused when he realized the corner she had put him in. If he defended himself then that meant he believed he was also peacocking. If he just defended Kovan, well, that was completely counter-point.

“I am Asgardian,” she reminded everyone present, “normally petty arguments like these are settled in a bar brawl followed by songs and copious amounts of mead. All you seem to wish to do is bicker, at least afford us the entertainment of a good fisticuffs.”

“Perhaps,” Sovan cleared his throat, a smile tinting the edges of his lips, “you could let one of them borrow your dagger, make things more interesting?”

“Splendid idea,” she waved her hand and the dagger appeared lightly clutched between her fingers. 

“Give it to Philant,” one of her fellow mediators said, “he’s smaller than Kovan, we should be fair.”

“I do believe you’re right,” Sigyn nodded at the man, glad that he was smart enough to pick up on what she was doing. “Philant?”

She held out the dagger towards the man got a little pale and shook his head lightly. With a frown and shrug, she turned towards Kovan and offered him the weapon. He kept his color but declined with a light wave of his hand, saying, “You’ve made your point, Lady Sigyn.”

“I do hope so,” she tried not to smile triumphantly. 

After that incident, the squabbling gave way to actual discussion and it felt like the peace talks actually began. Each side was listing off their grievances, followed by their wants, needs, and expectations. It would take days to get through this part of the negotiations. Then the settlement discussions would begin. That would take… as long as it would take.

Later in the evening, Sigyn returned to the rooms that had been set aside for her. They had evening meal with the other two mediators who were both impressed and troubled by her actions. It had been risky, she admitted that, but she had enough practice with seeing Loki and Thor brotherly bicker that she could tell that Kovan and Philant were simply not willing to be the one to back down.

Thankfully their egos weren’t larger or else the whole thing could have horribly backfired on her. 

It was a calculated risk. One Loki would be proud of.

Setting down her tablets, wondering if she should do some reading or just go straight to bed, she felt a presence in the room. He was stealthy, but there was no mistaking the fact that the very air of the room moved as if another body was present in it. It was something Loki had taught her while training her with the dagger. 

‘Be aware of your surroundings,’ he had told her, ‘know when something is there that shouldn’t be.’

Keeping her back to the presence, she quietly made the dagger once again appear in her hand. This time her grip was firm and ready to attack. When the assailant was close enough, she twirled quickly, striking out. Her hand was caught but she used the momentum to both wrench herself free and drive the elbow of her other arm into Loki’s back.

Loki?

“Loki!” she said when she realized who it was.

“And here I was going to surprise you,” he laughed, grinning as he turned to face her.

“You did surprise me,” she was pointing the dagger at him, “how did you get through security?”

“With difficulty,” he replied nonchalantly, “which I’m glad for. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Sigyn sighed but it was a loving gesture. She was precious to him, still an object, but his and he would always protect her. Just as she would always protect him.

“I have a few suggestions,” he continued as he stepped closer to her, “on how to improve the security,” he ran his hand up into her hair, lips indecently close to hers, “but first, you look like you need to unwind, madam mediator.”

The prince received no argument from Sigyn as he dragged her to her bed, tying her into knots before uncurling her. 

Pleasantly exhausted, Sigyn laid snuggled up to Loki who was lightly tracing circles down her side. “We will be having a short break at the Summer Solstice,” she told him, “my request on the timing so I can compete in the race. Will you be able to come back before then?”

“Likely,” he answered easily, “everyone is used to me disappearing for a day here and there, but if I increase the frequency they may get suspicious as to where I’m going.”

“They are already suspicious,” she told him, “but they are respectful of your privacy.”

He gave a snort that told her he didn’t believe it and she didn’t want to argue it with them there. 

“Tell me, my dear Sigyn,” Loki spoke quietly, “how could I keep you from ever doing something like this ever again?”

“You don’t,” she replied simply. “I am an Emissary. I am Asgardian. I go where I am needed.”

“And if you were needed by my side?” he spoke almost casually but she could feel his test tighten as he kept his breaths even. 

“I am by your side,” Sigyn had to keep her own breathing calm as she could be misinterpreting him, “I always will be.”

“But if you were… a Princess of Asgard,” he became strangely shy and quiet, “then you would have certain obligations that would keep you from going into warzones for lengths at a time.”

Sigyn sat up, looking down at the prince. “Do not do this, Loki. Do not offer marriage as a means to control my actions.”

She thought he might flare with anger, but he had chosen his words on expectation of her response. He simply looked at her thoughtfully. “You do not want to wed me?”

“That’s not what I said,” she frowned at him, realizing she walked into his trap. 

“You said you will be by my side, always,” he reached up and gently brought her back down to lay next to him, “and you will be, as my Princess, perhaps one day as my Queen.”

“Titles mean little to me,” she reminded him even as she melted against him. 

“But you bare them well, Serpent,” he took her hand and kissed at her wrist, “Emissary,” kissed again, “Heretic.”

“Make me your Princess,” she told him as firmly as she could muster, “and I will still do what is best for Asgard, even if it means once again going into a warzone for lengths at a time.”

“The ever faithful, Sigyn,” he chuckled and she felt it ripple through her body, “I expect nothing less.”

They settled against each other and she thought on his words. Sigyn had no illusions of what being Loki’s wife would mean. A Princess had responsibilities to the Royal Court and to Asgard. She would also be required to produce an heir, as long as there was no complications with Loki’s genetic irregularity. Loki would get what he wanted, her nearly unable to leave him again unless it was truly dire. 

She wanted to be angry at his manipulation, but she always knew it was going to end like this eventually. Either Loki would tire of her or they would finally bring their relationship into the light and she would become his wife. 

It wasn’t a bad fate, as fates go.

“The Odinsleep is coming,” Loki finally spoke, “an announcement will be made soon, Thor’s coronation set.”

“Your brother will need you by his side,” she told him, unsure if that would help or hurt his mood.

“And I will need you by mine.” Loki turned his head to look at her. “When this treaty is done, and you return home triumphant, we will be wed in a grand ceremony.”

Sigyn’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t remember agreeing to your proposal.”

“I don’t remember making one,” he smirked, “but tell me, my dear Sigyn, are you really going to say no?”

She took a moment to consider what he said, but it was no use. “I am yours, my prince.”

“And I am yours, my dear Sigyn,” he spoke before kissing her tenderly.

Princess Sigyn, the Serpent of Asgard, wife of Loki Odinson, the God of Lies. 

The Serpent and the Liar.

Of course it was fate.


	34. The Crown

The Crown

Negotiations went as well as could be expected. Arguments still broke out occasional, daily even, but were quickly quelled. The group was attacked, twice, but the diplomat’s lives were never really in any danger. Security was tight with both the Nova Corps and faithful Kree ensuring the safety of the diplomats. 

Loki managed to sneak into Sigyn’s chambers a few times, after a while she realized he enjoyed the challenge.

But then the announcement was made, Thor would take over for his father and be crowned King of all of Asgard. 

Sigyn was of course happy for the older brother, however, she could not ignore the effect it had on her lover. It was not a personal slight that Thor was chosen over Loki, but he treated it as such. He thought his brother ill-suited for the throne, that he would make a wreck of Asgard. Loki threw out dozens of excuses but it always paired down to the simple fact that Thor becoming King made Loki feel unimportant. Lesser. Inconsequential. Trifling.

“And what does he know of fiscal policy?” Loki continued to rant as he got dressed.

“About as much as your father, I’d wager,” Sigyn was curled up under a blanket on the bed, “he does have over a dozen financial advisors.”

Loki make a snorting noise and pulled on his other boot. Sigyn had requested a short recess of negotiations so she could attend the coronation. She returned the day before the crowning was to take place and it hadn’t taken long for Loki to seek her out. They spent a fair amount of the evening together. However, there was much that was to be done the following day and Loki was unable to spend the night.

“Thor will make a fine king,” Sigyn told him with a long suffering sigh, “he is a natural leader and that is what a king does. A single man cannot rule alone.”

“But he can allow foolish things to occur,” Loki threw her words back at her lightly, standing up and grabbing his long coat.

Sigyn propped herself onto her elbows, the sheet barely covering her. “Not when he has a brother by his side whom he respects and listens to.”

He gave her a curious look. “Whose side are you on?”

“Asgard’s,” she responded pointedly. 

Loki shook his head as he put on his coat, laughing slightly, “I should have expected such an answer from Asgard’s Most Faithful Serpent.”

“It doesn’t matter which of you wears the crown, Loki,” she was near tired of repeating herself on the matter, “you will both be kings.”

The man was quiet for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face that played on his lips. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Loki,” she knew that look, “what are you scheming?”

He put his hand over his heart as if he had been struck. “You think I’m going to do something during my dear brother’s coronation ceremony?” 

“Yes,” she answered bluntly.

Chuckling, he leaned down, close enough to kiss her. “I promise you, I will be on my best behavior.”

“That does not instill me with confidence…” she managed to say before their lips met.

…

As befitting a woman of her stature, Sigyn found herself standing off to one side of the room amongst other diplomats and members of the Royal Court. Warriors lined the path to the dais where Odin sat, awaiting his son. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif were there as well, as they were Thor’s friends and also the unofficial first advisors to the new King.

If Sigyn’s relationship with Loki had been public knowledge then she would be standing up there too, father back of course. A small part of her was annoyed at herself for making that decision, to keep the secret. It was the part of her that relished the idea of standing tall and proud in front of all those who questioned her abilities and her sanity.

She supposed she’d have that day soon enough. Once the treaty negotiations were over, she and Loki would stand side by side as husband and wife at the foot of that throne. Provided he didn’t decide to delay his not-exactly-a-proposal. He wasn’t typically fickle, but, again, he was full of surprises lately.

Preceding Thor, the Queen was escorted to the throne by Loki who seemed to be on his almost best behavior. He was smiling, making light of the situation and enjoying himself. Perhaps he had seen reason? Maybe his mother had finally talked some sense into him? More likely he had glued Thor’s helmet to the table. 

He only said he’d behave himself _during_ the ceremony.

As they passed, she was unable to make eye contact with the prince due to all the others standing in front of her. It made no matter, he knew she was there. 

Once everyone had taken their places, the trumpets were sounded and Thor made his entrance. His helmet was intact, so that was something.

The older brother soaked in the crowd’s exuberance at seeing their new King. Holding his hammer high, Thor walked down the aisle as if he had just won the Summer Solstice Games and was about to receive his trophy. On the dais, Sigyn could see Sif roll her eyes at his antics. 

As Thor kneeled before his father, Odin spoke loudly and clearly for all to hear. 

But then the man paused, saying something she didn’t catch. Those closer to the throne had heard him and panic rippled throughout the room.

The Royal Family rushed from the dais, guards and others followed. Sigyn wanted to go with them but she was stopped by a single word that now drifted through the onlookers: Jotun.

Frost Giants had gotten into the main palace, but how?

Loki…

Surely it couldn’t have been a coincidence that on the day of Thor’s coronation several Jotun had managed to bypass all the defenses, and the eyes of Hemidall? Granted, the coronation was a good distraction, but they must have known how fruitless of an effort it would be. Unless perhaps someone made them promises he never intended to keep… and showed them a path that could only be crossed once…

The all clear was sounded and Sigyn wandered through the halls of the royal palace, looking for Loki. He was the one who found her, pulling her into an alcove, out of sight.

“Please tell me you played no part in this,” Sigyn nearly implored him.

“We all have our parts to play,” he replied simply and she could see the glee in his eyes, “but fret not, my dear Sigyn, the interlopers were dispatched easily enough. You’re safe.”

Sigyn wanted to ask him what his definition of ‘safe’ was, but the fact that he walked around the question told her the truth. “Prince or no, you committed treason.”

He sighed as one does to an impatient child. “That was a trap. Treason would be believing they ever had a fighting chance.”

Closing her eyes and taking a nice long breath, she wanted to argue the point with him but she knew Loki. He would be ready to deflect and dance around every point. And he would have an alibi, he _always_ had an alibi.

“You’re not going to tell on me,” he brushed his fingers across her cheek bones, “are you, my dear?”

“No,” she reluctantly admitted. What would be gained even if she could prove his culpability? “You realize this only delays the coronation, Thor will still be crowned on a later day.”

“Unfortunately,” he grumbled but there was no ignoring the fact that he was rightfully pleased that his scheme went to plan.

There was a great billowing and a crash.

“That would be Thor,” Loki took great pleasure in that fact.

“He’ll need his friends, he’ll need you,” Sigyn told Loki, pulling away a little, “and I need to return to the peace talks, now. Get ahead of this.”

“What for?” The prince frowned, obviously having other ideas in mind.

“Our new king was not crowned,” she sighed with a shake of her head, “it puts our leadership into question and that makes Asgard look bad. Our bargaining power, our influence, becomes strained.”

“Ah, yes,” Loki nodded but he was only then realizing the full impact of his actions.

“We will break again soon for the Summer Solstice,” she ran her hands down his shoulders, “but maybe I’ll see you before then.”

“Perhaps you will.” Loki smiled at her, his grin wide and his cheeks high as he leaned in to kiss her. 

It was the last time she would ever see that spark of joy in his eyes.

…

“That’s completely unreasonable,” Sigyn injected into the conversation. “You’re basically sacrificing your own people for the sake of convenience. I would think you better than that, Philant.”

“Are you saying that we would not be reasonable rulers of the planet?” Kovan spoke before the Xandarian had a chance to.

“You’ll reasonable rule the planet,” she clarified sharply, “by removing all the people upon it so you can move in your military complex.”

The argument continued as Philant was willing to give up the border planet in return for concessions. Philant was far too concerned with what he’d gain rather than what his people would lose. This happens, even with the best intentioned of empires, and Sigyn made it her job to ensure that everyone’s interest were served. 

“Emissary,” Leah came up beside her as she was listening to Philant try to explain his stance.

“Not now,” Sigyn quietly and politely dismissed her.

“I found that tome you requested,” Leah pushed a tablet at her and Sigyn took it, keeping her face the same mask of annoyance that she had been wearing. ‘Tome’ was what Leah said when she wanted to give Sigyn something important but didn’t want others to know. 

“Thank you,” Sigyn nodded and started to read the information even as she half listened to the debate.

It took every ounce of strength she had not to react to what she was reading on the confidential dispatch.

Thor, the man who was nearly crowned king, had been banished from Asgard.

Odin, the man who was king, had fallen into Odinsleep prematurely and it was unsure if he would awaken.

Loki, the man who was never to wear the crown, had been placed on the throne of Asgard by Frigga’s decree.

There were only a few details. Thor’s banishment was punishment for nearly starting another active war with the Jotuns over what happened. Banishment seemed like a harsh reaction but then there had to be more to the story. And what trauma could cause the Odinsleep to befall the king so early?

Politically, this was a nightmare. As soon as the news got out, Sigyn’s position would be severely weakened in the negotiations. But not only that, Asgard’s overall impression would be tarnished and there would be those who would want to press their advantage. Some of their colonies outside their Realm would be at risk of attack. 

Personally, Sigyn was so deathly afraid for Loki. What had he done? What part had he played in this? How would he take his sudden rise to the throne? Wanting and having are always two different beasts.

Sigyn wanted to run straight to the prince, now King, but then the others would know something was wrong the moment she stood from the table. What she really needed to do was contact her fellow Emissary’s and Ambassadors, figure out what they were going to do to secure Asgard’s place of power among the realms.

Firstly, they needed to get Thor back to Asgard, perhaps not as King, but at least no longer banished. Loki would not take kindly to that suggestion, even if he couldn’t argue with it.

Trying to keep that look of annoyance on her face, as if she was dealing with something inconsequential, she wrote a note to Leah on the tablet. She instructed the girl to ‘quietly’ contact the Xandarian and Kree Ambassadors and set up a meeting for directly after the session ended. Also, she needed the girl to find out if this news had gotten out and how far it had spread if it had. 

Lastly, she asked her to send a note to Loki, written simply in case it was intercepted: “I pledge my fealty to Asgard’s new King. Once I have seen to the duties of Asgard, I will swiftly return to make this pledge in person.”

It should only take her a few days to ensure Asgard survived the fallout of events with their reputation intact in the Midgardian Realm. There wasn’t too much Loki could do in that time that couldn’t be fixed. He was likely a little drunk on his power but he had his mother there to keep him grounded. He would listen to her. 

Sigyn truly wanted to go to Loki first, but that would be putting her own needs before that of Asgard. Loki would understand, she hoped. He was likely already planning their marriage to declare her Queen or some such nonsense as part of some scheme to secure his place on the throne should Thor return or Odin Awaken. 

In honestly, Loki was probably having entirely too much fun. 

No, best she waited, let him calm down so he would be more apt to see reason. 

That didn’t mean she couldn’t contact him via a communication device until she could see him in person. She tried his personal communications but he did not answer. This was odd, but if he had become King then he would be under even closer scrutiny. So she tried through ‘official channels’ but was simply told her ‘message would be passed on’.

When she finally asked Hemidall to open the Bifrost… her call was left unanswered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, we've gotten into the first Thor film and we see where Sigyn was hiding just outside of the narrative. You might have been expecting something more angsty, but to be honest, that is the true tragedy of Loki. At the beginning of the film he is a happy, albeit mischievous, kid who has some depression issues but he copes. Then he discovers everything about himself, the things that made him happy, are a lie and he's the monster under the bed.


	35. The Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild Warning for Depression/Suicide regarding Loki's fall from the Bifrost. I don't really go into it, it's just part of the natural discussion for trying to figure out what Loki was thinking when he fell.

The Heart

Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, God of Lies, Lord of Mischief, the Silvertongue… was dead.

When the Bifrost was destroyed and all communications with Asgard had been cut off, the reaction was swift. There were protocols already in place should Asgard somehow lose the Bifrost, though no one ever expected to use them. Especially not in a time of peace…

Sigyn had already been a step ahead of the protocols. She had banded together the Ambassadors, diplomats, and the few Royal Court members who were in the Midgardian Realm. They secured the safety of the Asgardian colonies from the major powers. They even requested aid where it was needed as no longer could Asgard send their own troops should anyone be attacked. 

While the Ambassadors were able to keep the Empires from taking advantage of the situation, a certain seedier element saw profit before the news even had a chance to properly circulate. Small bands of outlaws started to raid in areas previously protected by Asgardian troops. 

And it wasn’t just Asgardian colonies, but smaller solar systems who had pledged fealty to Asgard in exchange for their protection. The Nova Empire picked up the slack but bargains had to be made and certain clauses in treaties evoked. 

No one truly understood how important Asgard was… until it was effectively gone.

When communications were reestablished, though the Bifrost still out of commission, Sigyn received a dispatch which included, among other things, three important points.

Odin had awaken from his Odinsleep.

Thor had returned from his banishment.

Loki had died when the Bifrost fell.

Sigyn’s heart stopped.

She had been in her private rooms, getting ready for yet another meeting with another Empire to discuss troop movements when Leah reluctantly gave her the dispatch. Sigyn was thankful she was alone, save for the girl, as this time she could not hold back her reaction. 

Sinking to her knees, Sigyn died.

A weight unlike any other crushed her until she could not breathe.

There was no guilt, there was no strange happiness, as there had been with Theoric. There was nothing but pain, a sharp cold spike that drove itself into her stomach, nailing her to the floor.

Loki, her Loki, was dead, fallen from the Bifrost.

Sigyn’s heart started to beat again.

Loki fell from the Bifrost... and everyone assumed he died from that alone? Did none of them even know who they was speaking of? The man who could Realm-Walk through natural fissures, and who could sneak through any security net?

No… a fall would simply be an annoyance to him, nothing more. 

And the report did not say he was gravely injured beforehand so there was no reason for Sigyn to believe that he had died, at least not from the fall alone. She would have to gather more information before she could know for sure. 

But her heart kept beating, hurting and bleeding, but still thrumming in her chest.

That meant that the one who wielded it must surely still be alive…

…

“What do you mean, ‘he just let go’?” Sigyn was talking to her cousin over the communications device. It hadn’t been easy to catch him, they both had been very busy trying to sort out the mess that had been made.

When they finally had time to speak in private, he told her the whole story of what happened.

Sigyn couldn’t believe it… but at the same time she could. All of Loki’s actions were nearly insane yet very… Loki. The only confusion was the why… why had he done any of it?

“That’s what Thor said,” Fandral explained with a sorrowful expression. “He was trying to pull Loki up by the scepter, but I guess Loki was so overcome by what he had done, he just let go.”

Taking a long, controlled breath, Sigyn closed her eyes. “Loki doesn’t ‘just do’ anything, his actions always have a purpose. He certainly wouldn’t try to kill himself either. Even when he’s in a depressive mood he’s entirely too fond of himself to do such a thing.” No, he was much more likely to kill others… which is exactly what he tried to do…

“Queen Frigga believes the same,” was Fandral’s only response, “though not in so many words. But she does believe he still lives.”

“She knows her son,” Sigyn reminded him, trying to keep the flippant tone out of her voice.

The familiar feelings of guilt crept up on Sigyn the more she learned of what had happened. Instead of being overjoyed at becoming King, Loki had apparently suffered the exact opposite. If perhaps she had put herself first and gone to him, she would have seen the signs and stopped his destructive behavior.

But would he have listened? He hadn’t even answered her when she tried to contact him. Why?

“There’s something you should know,” Fandral’s tone was odd and that pulled Sigyn from her thoughts, “and it hasn’t been made public yet, I’m not sure if it will, but Loki… was adopted.”

“Well that’s not terribly surprising.” Sigyn frowned because while it did make sense that genetically he wasn’t Odin and Frigga’s son, he sure as hell acted like it.

“He’s actually Jotun,” Fandral managed to say with a straight face.

“What?” Sigyn blinked as the words registered. “Loki is Jotun, a Frost Giant?”

“Yes,” Fandral nodded as if he was unsure what to do with the information even though he had had it for a while. “Odin took him the same time he took the casket from Jotunheim. Apparently Loki is, was, the son of King Laufrey, but he was… a runt, left to die,” he just kept talking as Sigyn had gone silent, not really listening. “I’m still not entirely sure why he’s not blue, something to do with the Jontun’s adaptive physiology…”

“Loki is a Frost Giant,” she repeated the words to herself, “that explains so much.”

“Explains what?” her cousin asked.

Loki’s penchant for the colder temperatures. The way his kisses always tasted of snow and spearmint. How cold his tongue was on her body. “The Skathi,” she told Fandral, “I never did understand why they attacked him and not me.”

“Ah yes,” Fandral nodded, “they don’t like the Jotun, or the Kree.”

“Yes,” she replied but her mind was elsewhere. 

She finally had the why. Why would Loki try to destroy Jotunheim? The answer was simple: he wasn’t.

He was trying to destroy the Jotun part of himself.

…

“Genetic irregularity?” was Sigyn’s first words to the Queen when Frigga contacted her. The guise was a discussion of the political state of Migard’s assets in the Midgardian Realm. But when Frigga requested that it be an unofficial, private talk, the meaning was clear. This was not a discussion of politics.

“You deserved to be warned,” Frigga told her without a hint of remorse. “That was the only feasible explanation I could give.”

“Other than the truth,” Sigyn found she no longer cared to keep civility towards her Queen. “A truth that Loki deserved to know. Yet you kept it hidden from him as if it was something to be ashamed of.”

“Do not profess to have a full understanding of the situation,” Frigga warned her coolly. “This was not how he was supposed to find out.”

“Was he to ever find out?” Sigyn replied just as sharply. 

“Of course,” something in the woman’s tone made Sigyn wonder if Frigga even believed that. “There was to be peace, a true peace, between Asgard and the Jotun. Their casket was to be returned and a prosperity shared between both words.”

“You meant to send Loki back to Jotunheim,” it wasn’t that hard to see the plan once all the pieces were laid out, “so that he could control the Frost Giants. You raise him Asgardian, with loyal Asgardian values, so he could subjugate the Jotuns,” she shook her head in disgust. “You meant to indoctrinate them, suppress their culture into something more amenable. It’s deplorable.”

“What happened to your shrewdness, Lady?” The Queen was not at all pleased at her insinuations, but she did not argue them.

“It fell away, with Loki.” Sigyn knew she was speaking to the Queen of the Realm but she cared little for titles at the moment. “You are his mother, damn biology, did you not see Loki’s wandering depression? The way he always felt second to Thor? The way he never felt good enough for his father? I thought it imagined favoritism but I see now that I was wrong.”

“I loved Loki as my own,” Frigga shot back sternly.

“But he wasn’t your son,” Sigyn spoke cruelly. “He was an object, a tool, a thing you cared for so that you may have use for later. Is it no wonder that Loki began treating everyone in his life the same way?”

“Do not speak of things you do not understand,” the older woman’s temper flared and it reminded her so much of Loki that she realized that it was not Odin that Loki gained that trait from. “Loki was _my son_. Whatever plans Odin had for him, whatever reasons he came into my life, he was as dear to me as his brother.”

The Queen’s words had been raw and Sigyn had a small measure of regret for scolding the woman. ”So why did you not tell him the truth? All this time… all the opportunities to explain to him his heritage… but you kept the lie.”

“The truth hurts everyone,” Frigga echoed her painful words from so long ago, “it is a heavy burden to bare.”

“So you shoved it all onto Loki,” Sigyn sighed with a shake of her head, “who drowned under the weight of it.”

…

Time passed and the secret was kept. It would only hurt Asgard for it to be known that a Frost Giant had been living in the palace under the guise of being a Prince. Jotun’s were the monsters that hid under children’s beds. Every Asgardian was told to fear them and that to kill one was the height of strength and courage. To know that they had been bowing down to one?

Loki was dead, it was best to preserve his memory and do what was better for the kingdom which was already struggling with the loss of the Bifrost.

But Sigyn’s heart still beat.

After she learned the truth, Sigyn tried to piece everything together. Tried to understand what was going on in her beloved’s head when he made the decisions he did. She understood what he was trying to do, to cut away the part of him that he deemed monstrous, but that only ended up making him the monster.

Why did he not answer her calls? Why did he not ask her to come urgently and be by his side to help him get through this? She even learned that Loki made sure Fandral and Sif’s messages to her did not get through. They had tried to contact her to see if she would help them convince Loki to bring Thor back to Asgard. 

Perhaps that was the truth. He knew that she would have advised against nearly everything he did and didn’t want her to stop him.

Or was it simpler than that? Did he think she would reject him because of things he had no control over? Did he not understand that she loved him, all of him? Yes, that he was Jotun was a shock, but it changed nothing. He was still Loki, the man who stole her heart and gave her his life.

But apparently that wasn’t enough for him. 

Not only did he ignore her, but once he fell, he did not seek her out. Rumors had started to circulate, Loki was alive, seen in the company of the one known as The Other. The stories differed, no one seemed to have all the facts. Some said he was a prisoner, others said he was an accomplice. As Sigyn began to back track the rumors, they only led her to dead ends. Words spoken in seedy cantinas. 

Sigyn would have protected Loki if he had just come to her. She told him that clearly on more than one occasion. She was the only one he could trust. Apparently that was just another one of his lies.

The news came that Loki was indeed alive. He had led an army of Chitarui warriors against Midgard on behalf of The Other. 

As relieved as she was to hear that Loki was alive, captured, and taken back to Asgard… she was not terribly surprised. She had known he was alive, for the simple fact that Loki’s life was hers. 

If anyone was going to kill him… it was going to be her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's never really made specifically clear in the films whether or not Loki's Jotun heritage is made public on Asgard, unless I just missed it. They may have admitted he was adopted, but not that he was Jotun. I don't count the guards at the beginning of Dark World because they are guards and I'm sure there are a lot of secrets they've had to keep. Thor only told the Avengers that Loki was adopted, he never mentioned the Jotun part either. I'm going to go with the idea that the whole thing was just shoved under the rug. Politically it makes more sense.


	36. Forbidden

Forbidden

Once the BiFrost had been repaired using the Tesseract, Asgardian troops were sent to the problem areas where smaller bandit teams had taken advantage of their absence. Thor was at the lead, along with Sif and the Warrior’s Three. It was important that Thor be a visible symbol of Asgard’s strength in order to counter-act the damage to their reputation that had been done.

Sigyn wanted to go straight to Loki who she had been told was now locked away in the prisons. However, with her needed in Midgard to help with the political side of the battle, on top of having to finish the peace negotiations between the Xandarians and Kree, travel to Asgard would be highly suspicious in its inconvenience. 

She also had no idea what she was going to say to him. 

Eventually, Sigyn was called back to Asgard, along with some of the other ambassadors and diplomats, to give the King a full report on the situation. Sigyn did her duty, calmly and methodically presenting Odin with a detailed list of events, including which treaties and bargains had been struck to ensure the safety of their colonies and those who swore fealty to them.

As she spoke, she knew Loki sat in a cage somewhere below her feet. 

“Your swift thinking and actions shall be commended,” Odin told the entire party gathered.

The man seemed genuinely pleased that his subjects were able to handle the situation as it spiraled out of control. But there was a roughness to his voice, as if he was perpetually preoccupied. There was no doubt what could be on his mind.

“Lady Sigyn,” Odin stopped her as the group proceeded to leave after being dismissed. “I would like to discuss the Xandar/Kree situation.”

“Of course,” she nodded, stepping back up the dais before his throne. “Negotiations have been completed, so provided the leadership of both sides accept the terms, the peace should be ratified by the Solstice.”

“It will be good to find stability in that area of the Midgardian Realm.” The King nodded thoughtfully. “I hear that you have been approached to stay on Xandar, to aid in the transition and mediate any unforeseeable issues.”

Sigyn wasn’t going to bother to ask how Odin had learned such things, the old man had his ways. “Yes,” she took a deep breath, “as with anything, you cannot account for every circumstance that may result in your actions,” her dig at the man was not exactly subtle, “so I was asked to help keep the peace.”

The King watched her for a moment, his single eye judging her as he calculated his next move. His son was so much like his father. Eventually he told her, “You should take the position.”

“Should I?” she replied curtly with an innocent tone to her voice.

“It’s a highly prestigious request they make of you,” there was no denying the underlying meaning to his words. He was telling her to leave Asgard… to leave his son…

“It is,” she replied evenly, gauging his expression and wondering how long he had known about her intimate relationship with Loki. As long as Frigga had? Longer perhaps? “I will take your advice under consideration,” she continued with a polite curtsy, “now, if you would excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

He gestured that she could leave, but after she had turned and taken a few steps, he told her, “Loki is forbidden visitors, in case you were thinking of making your way down to the prisons.”

“Do you mean to dehumanize him?” she called back over her shoulder, afraid that if she faced the man she would say or do something that would end her in a prison far away from Loki’s. 

“He’s already done that to himself,” Odin’s words were just a touch above cruel. 

“He was only following the direction he was given,” was her response.

The king scoffed, “Are you justifying his actions?”

“No,” she admitted with a sigh, “his actions were inexcusable, but predictable, if you ever bothered to put any thought towards how you treated your _son_.”

“You have no right to speak of things you do not know,” he nearly growled at her.

Sigyn turned her body just enough to face the surly King. “And whose fault is that?”

At this point, Sigyn could be thrown in a cell, she cared little. Her world hadn’t exactly fallen apart, but a gaping wound at been dealt and she was bleeding out slowly. 

“Take the position, Serpent,” was Odin’s eventual reply, and this time it wasn’t a stern request. Odin was cleaning up his mess, and she had become part of it.

…

“Sigyn,” a voice called to her as she walked through the halls of the palace.

“Thor.” Sigyn nodded respectfully as the man approached her.

“A moment,” he gestured towards one of the empty balconies, “please.”

“Of course,” she replied and followed him onto the balcony where it was seemingly more private. 

“I take it you have heard the story by now,” Thor said as he placed his hands on the balustrade to look out over what should be his kingdom, “of Loki’s fall and what happened on Midgard.”

“Yes,” Sigyn spoke as she put a critical eye over the prince. She hardly could have called him a dear friend, but it was clear enough to her that he had changed in the short time she had been away. He was calmer and more collective, introspective even, in his demeanor. 

“Loki…” he started then took a long breath. “Loki isn’t himself, but he is. It’s like the worst parts of him have been brought forward.”

“He has become the monster he believes himself to be?” Sigyn suggested.

Thor looked up at her. “Yes,” then his eyes turned away, “and I fear that he is lost. That I can no longer trust him as I once did.”

“Surely Loki can’t be that lost.” Sigyn frowned, not wanting to believe it herself.

“There was something else,” Thor continued, tensing his muscles as he tried to suss out answers for himself, “someone else. What happened on Midgard, it… it wasn’t Loki’s style.”

Sigyn had thought the same when she heard the details. The invasion, while it had an amount of subterfuge, was entirely too heavy handed, not to mention tactically flawed. “Perhaps he was trying to emulate your father? He was always trying to make him proud but… but he never thought he could match up to you.”

It was a horrible truth to mention but it could not be ignored. Thor simply accepted it, nodding before saying, “I thought the same, but as I fought with him… there was something in his eyes. I don’t know if it was a plea, or a pain… but there was an influence there. Something had torn into him, broke him.”

“The Other,” she breathed the name.

“Who?” Thor asked nearly immediately.

“The Other,” Sigyn said more clearly, “it was part of some rumors I started to hear before the invasion. I cannot tell you if they have any validity.”

“But it’s a place to start.” Thor nodded thankfully. “I stopped you to give you this warning, Lady, Loki is no longer the man we both once loved. Keep this in your heart, when you see him.” 

“I think you’re confused,” Sigyn replied, instinctively attempting to hide the nature of her relationship with Loki.

“I may not have my mother’s keenness,” he offered her a soft smile, gesturing loosely at her dress, “but even I understand the meaning of a snake-skin dress on the floor of my brother’s bedroom.”

Sigyn was awash with the memory of the only time she shared Loki’s own bed, going to him after he returned from a great battle. Thor had interrupted them accidentally, Loki hiding her and their secret, but Thor knew better. “You never said anything.”

“It wasn’t my place,” he admitted, “you and Loki had your reasons. I guessed the least of being that you two are very private individuals to begin with.”

“We are at that,” she replied quietly, wondering if there was anyone they had been able to keep the secret from, and did she truly know the people in her life.

“If you can bring him back from the darkness that he’s embraced, you have my support,” his words were near kingly in their tone, just and powerful, “but I will not put that burden on you. He is my brother, I have a duty to him.”

“I understand.” Sigyn left the matter at that. There was no doubt to the truth in Thor’s words. He would do whatever it took to get his brother back. Had Loki truly gone that far?

“The guards change shift at the end of mid-meal,” Thor told her.

“Visiting Loki is forbidden,” she reminded him with a slight upturn of her lip.

“That hasn’t stopped our mother,” he smiled fondly at the thought.

Sigyn couldn’t help a small smile at knowing that Frigga was there for her son. It didn’t completely make up for what the Queen had done, but it was important to know she hadn’t abandoned him. None of them had abandoned him, they still loved him, wanted him to heal. But would Loki see it that way? 

There was only one way to find out.

…

Sigyn made her way down to the prisons, casting an illusion of herself as a guardsman. Timing her entrance at the shift change, she was barely questioned as she headed down the stairs towards the actual cells. She had never been down there before, trusting Thor’s description of the area.

Starting down the hall, she noted quickly that Loki’s cell was first on the left. There was a guard going the other way so she kept walking straight, glancing lightly over at the prince. He was lounging in a chair, reading a book. From what she could catch before having to pass, he almost looked as if he was completely content. As if this was just another day spent in his study.

But he watched her subtly under his lashes as she passed in the guise of the guard. Loki wasn’t as oblivious to his situation as he appeared. Unless anything had changed in the time since she saw him last, he should not be able to recognize her, thinking her another guard to take note of.

Making her way to the end, she turned around and headed back up the hallway, pretending she had been checking the cells. The other guard had made his way up and so she was alone. Having seen that Loki’s cell had two force-field walls, she slipped between the dungeon wall and the force-field. Going to the very end of the alcove, she squatted to make herself small and let her illusion fall.

“Loki,” she breathed as quietly as she dared. She doubted the other prisoners would make that much of a fuss, but the guards might hear her if her voice traveled up the dank stairs.

The prince had been watching her when she moved into the side hall, though he pretended to keep reading. When he heard her voice, she could see his face break out into a near menacing grin. “Sigyn,” his tone was deep and dark, “my ever-faithful, dear Sigyn.”

“Loki,” she tried to keep him from seeing how his voice startled her, “I understand why you did it.”

“Which part?” His demeanor suddenly changed into something near jovial as he placed his book down and picked up his wine cup. “The treason? The patricide? The mass murder?” he took a quick drink, “Mmm, oh yes, the genocide?” 

Sigyn stared at him, trying not to frown at his utter indifference towards what he had done. Thor had warned her but she didn’t really believe it was as bad as he had said. Loki’s change was jarring in its intensity. 

“The lady is at a loss for words,” he sat down the cup and stood, idly clasping his hands behind his back, “what’s the matter, Jotun catch your tongue?”

“I know what you’re doing, Loki,” she stilled her jaw, “and it’s disappointingly heavy handed.”

“Am I better than this?” he asked with a mockingly curious expression. 

“Stop, Loki,” Sigyn said firmly, knowing he was purposefully trying to get reactions from her, “play this game with your family, but not with me.”

“Afraid I’ll win,” he smirked at her, “as I always do?”

Her first instinct was to reply that he was the one in a cage, but then that was what he wanted her to say. He wanted her to mock him to prove to himself that he was right in not trusting her before. But there was just that lint to his voice, something he couldn’t hide, paired with facts that didn’t make any sense. 

“Sometimes you’d be surprised what you can gain by losing,” she watched his eyes as she spoke and all they did was sharpen at the corners. “Your invasion was never meant to succeed, or at least it didn’t matter if it did, that wasn’t your true goal.”

Loki was a prince of Asgard and had a brilliant mind, he would never come up with such a tactically flawed plan. Opening a single insertion point that could become a choke point? It was laughable. 

And all he did was chuckle at her.

“Tell me about The Other,” she would not let him distract her.

The man stared at her darkly, once again his demeanor changing on her into something she had never seen before. She had seen him angry. She had seen him elated. She had seen his faces of passion, envy, lust, delight, and defeat. She had seen the darkness of his depression.

But this… this was something that she had never seen and it frightened her. This was not the Loki she knew. This was something dark… and broken.

“Sigyn, Sigyn,” he spoke her name slowly, a mock of reverence, “my dear Sigyn. Take the position on Xandar.”

“How…” she slipped, letting her surprise show on her face. 

“Do you really think,” he spoke lowly, approaching her like a serpent ready to strike, “that they could hold me down here? Lock me up like some lowly thug.” Loki grinned as he stood before her, kneeling down to her level. “I am Loki… and you are mine.”

The air burned hot around her and she could not breathe. Her heart pounded in her chest, deafening her ears.

“Let Odin get comfortable up there on his golden throne,” Loki sneered, rage boiling under the surface, “I merely need to be patient,” and he was deadly when he was patient. “I will bide my time… put all the pieces into play… and I will have what is mine, what is _owed_ to me.”

“Don’t do this, Loki,” she pleaded, knowing she was playing into exactly what he wanted but unable to stop. “I know you think you’ve fallen too far, that you have to continue on this path, but you don’t have to save face. I love you, Thor loves you, your mother loves you. All of you, no matter what you’ve done.”

Loki continued to stare at her with blank intensity. “Take the position, Sigyn. Put distance between us. I need you to keep your place of power amongst the Kree and Novas, or else you will be of no use to me.”

“Loki, stop this,” she continued though she feared it was useless. “What happened to you? You can tell me, you know you can. I’m…”

“You’re the only one I can trust,” he finished her thought with a grin, “and you will _always_ protect me.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. Defiantly, she said, “Your father told me the same, to leave Asgard for Xandar.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “He is such a fool. He thinks he can isolate me. He thinks he can control me,” he chuckled again. “He has no idea the monster he created.”

“You’re not a monster, Loki.” There was a stab near her heart that told her that perhaps that wasn’t entirely true.

“Run along, my faithful Sigyn,” he spoke as he stood slowly and backed away, “I will contact you when I have use of you.”

“Please don’t do this,” she edged closer to the force-field, “talk to me, Loki. Let me help you. Let me be yours.”

“You are mine,” he responded lowly as he turned away from her, “you will always be mine. Now do as you’re told.”

Indignation started to burn inside her, boiling away the pain and making her numb. “I still have your life, Loki,” her jaw was tight, “and you are still mine.”

The prince simply stood there with his back to her, his body still and his breathing even. Eventually he turned his head slightly, speaking just loudly enough for her to hear him say, “I was never anyone’s but my own.”

Sigyn closed her eyes, letting a few tears escape before she decided that enough was enough. Something had broken inside him, turned him into this caricature of a villain that stood before her. Until she knew what and how it happened, she had no way of knowing how to go about helping him to fix himself.

Loki had to be the one to end this, to seek to put himself back together after the darkness had torn him apart. 

Standing up, she straightened her snake-skin dress and drew her shoulders back. She would take the position on Xandar, if anything to be able to continue her work in following the rumors. It was better that Loki spoke of what happened, but if she could find out what turned his soul so black… it would be a place to start.

As for Loki… “Use it against me if you wish, but I’ll never give up on you.”

Not bothering to hear whatever flippant comeback he would use, she walked back down the small hallway towards the main one. She shrouded herself in an illusion and made her way out of the prison and its forbidden prisoner.

It wasn’t until she reached her home and collapsed onto the bed whose sheets still smelt faintly of her lover that she final broke down and allowed herself to cry. The man she loved may be lost but she had hope she could still save her friend…

Or they would parish together.

The Serpent and The Liar… 

One could not exist without the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you one again for reading! One more chapter to go!


	37. The Body

The Body

This time… there was a body.

Sigyn had returned to Xandar to begin her work helping with the transition to peacetime between the Xandarians and the Kree. The two empires were all for the peace, but there was a faction of Kree who thought the Emperor weak and the treaty sacrilegious. They had been causing trouble, specifically one named Ronan who, it was heard, was seeking outside help to aid in his quest to break the peace.

But none of that mattered as Sigyn read the dispatch. 

First came the notice that the Bifrost was on lockdown after the long-thought extinct Dark Elves attacked the palace in search of the Aether. Many Asgardians had fallen, including the Queen. While Sigyn may have taken issue with how Frigga approached the subject of her son’s heritage, she still respected her as a Queen and magic-user. Her loss would be felt by all of Asgard, but none would be as devastated as Loki.

Sigyn tried to speak to Thor, ask him to check on Loki and make sure he was okay. Thor was surely in pain as well over the loss of his mother, but Loki was already unstable and his mind fractured. To lose the woman he loved as his mother… there was no telling how he would react.

All Sigyn could do was leave Thor a message because he was occupied by other matters. She understood why this would be the case, and she was not surprised to hear that once again he defied his father. Only this time, instead of almost starting a war with another race, Thor broke Loki out of the prisons so the younger prince could lead them to the Dark World.

It was a decent plan. It got Asgard out of danger by redirecting the Dark Elves’ search, but they underestimated the power of the Aether. 

They also underestimated the prowess of the Dark Elves.

Loki was felled, his body left in the Dark World as Thor had to go after the Aether and stop Malekith from plunging the Realms into darkness. Guards brought Loki’s body back to Asgard where it could be given a proper Asgardian funeral. Regardless if Odin only did this to cover his lie, Loki’s biology may have been Jotun, his heart was truly Asgardian and deserved to leave this world as one.

“You did not go to the funeral, milady.” Thor had stopped her outside the palace when he saw her approach and they walked into the private gardens.

“I did not,” she told him with no regret in her voice. She had returned to Asgard for a short visit once the Bifrost was open. She had meant to the go see Loki to his final rest but could not make herself do so. “When we were in the cave, I promised Loki I would not see him dead. I keep my promises.”

“It is a difficult thing,” he nodded respectfully, “to see someone you care about in such a way.”

While she did keep her promise to him, after a fashion, she could not help but fear that should she have seen her beloved dead, the proof before her eyes, her heart would stop. Despite the painful words he had spoken to her when last they spoke, he still had her heart in his hands. And right now her heart was in so much pain… stinging like it was pierced by a thousand needles to let her know it was still beating.

“At the end,” Thor continued in a tone that suggested it was more for his benefit than for hers, “he… he started to come back to us.”

“I had hoped he hadn’t been truly lost,” she replied quietly. “I think he was in a lot of pain and the only way to cope with it was to embrace it.”

“I believe you are right.” Thor turned and started to walk over to a large tiered flower pot that overflowed with Lilies, his mother’s favorite if she remembered corrected. “I miss them both.”

“Frigga died protecting an innocent,” she told him softly but firmly, “she died with great honor.”

She meant to comfort him as he once tried to comfort her, but all he did was deflate slightly as he caressed one of the petals. “She died with honor, but she did not have to die. I should have…”

“Should have done what?” Sigyn shook her head. “You were right to bring the Doctor here, she was an unwilling danger to her people. You had no way to know the Dark Elves would attack. Better Asgard than Midgard, they would have not been able to repel them and suffered even greater losses.”

“Your words speak of the truth,” he sighed, letting his hand fall, “but the truth is still a burden.”

“Yes,” she frowned, unsure what she could say to console the prince. It was not her place to sooth his aching heart, that was the duty of his friends and the woman who had stolen it. All she could do was speak the truth, “Our hearts hurt to let us know they still are beating.”

“You are a wise woman, milady” he turned and smiled at her, though it was subdued and thoughtful, “I can see why Loki loved you so.”

“Loki did not love any of us,” she sighed as the truth weighed down on her, “we were simply objects. We were precious to him, worth fighting and dying for, but still objects.”

Thor creased his brow slightly, but she could see the thoughts turn over in his mind. “I never saw it that way, but now that you put it into words, you are right.”

“Loki was complicated,” Sigyn admitted with a slightly wistful smile, “but that was part of his charm.”

“Sigyn,” Thor drew himself up into a bit of a more regal poise, “though I was never able to call you my sister, if you ever have need of aid, I will be there for you.”

“You are too kind,” she tried to hide her discomfort at his noble gesture. It was a kind thing to say, but it only made Loki’s death that much more real to her. 

“It’s the least I could do,” he tried to smile but he felt the pain of loss as well, “you made him happy, I know you did. When he… when he was at the end, I told him that I would tell father of what he had done, he told me… that he didn’t do it for him.” Thor shook his head slightly and turned away, trying not to be overcome with emotion. “I know he was speaking of me, and our mother, but I feel that he also thought of you.”

Sigyn closed her eyes, tears slowly trailing down her cheeks. She had truly loved Loki… his faults and all. Why couldn’t he have seen that? Why had he not come to her? His last words to here were so harsh, she could not tell if he was purposely driving her away or if he had turned that cold. 

Now all that was left was a cold, lifeless body that held no answers… though maybe it did. Sigyn never thought to ask what kind of autopsy had been done. If they examined him carefully, then they may find sign of what had been done to him, the torture he may have been put under. But what would that prove other than Loki had been possibly coerced into invading Midgard… it spoke nothing of his attempted genocide.

Loki was a fractured soul who was shattered into a thousand pieces and who was told he could not put himself back together again. Is that not all she needed to know?

“He said he was sorry,” Thor continued speaking and Sigyn’s head snapped up, “that he didn’t do it from him, and then he was just gone. At least I got to say goodbye to him. I was too late with mother.”

“He said he was sorry?” Sigyn tried to keep her voice respectful as she asked the question. “Loki used that word.”

“Yes,” Thor nodded to her over his shoulder but keep his back turned as he once again ran his hand down the petals of the lilies.

Sigyn had gone from emotionally distraught to wanting to rip Loki’s throat out. Thankfully Thor had his back to her because she could not hide the initial rage that rippled through her. She gritted her teeth and mouthed Loki’s name like a curse. 

“I don’t think he was speaking of any single event,” Thor continued oblivious to her mood change, “I think he was just sorry for causing us all so much pain.”

“Yes,” was all Sigyn could muster.

There was no way, even in death, that Loki would ever say he was sorry for anything he had done. No, that word was used as a distraction, as a way to ply people with a false sense of humbleness from the trickster. Now, would he admit that he didn’t mean it? That it wasn’t supposed to happen this way? Any other phrase that assuaged him of his guilt? 

Loki was alive, he used his illusions to show Thor what he needed him to see, and said what his brother needed to hear. 

A voice cleared its throat and a page stepped forward into the area they were occupying. “Pardon my intrusion,” the page bowed his head and was suitably humble, “but the King has asked to speak with you, Lady Sigyn.”

“Thank you, advise him I’ll be along shortly,” she dismissed the page who turned on his heels swiftly and left.

“I just came from speaking to father myself,” Thor turned and spoke to Sigyn, “I told him I was going back to Midgard for a time to be with Jane.”

“From what I’ve heard,” Sigyn’s mind raced but could not settle, “she is a strong and intelligent woman, well versed in Midgardian magic.”

“She is,” his face lit up with a smile and it nearly broke Sigyn’s heart that he would have to suffer her loss as well in only a few short seasons. “I will find out what happened to Loki, who did this to him,” Thor explained, “but I now have duties to Midgard, and to Jane.”

Sigyn cocked her head slightly, “You refused the crown.”

“I am not fit to be king,” he spoke deeply as he nodded.

“The one who does not wish the crown is the one most suitable to wear it,” she replied with the old adage. 

“I would argue that with you, milady,” he smirked ever slightly, as if recalling a fond memory either of Loki or his mother, “but I must do what I believe is for the better good of Asgard.”

“The crown will be there when you return,” she smiled hopefully at him, “and the people will always support you.”

“But do they even know why?” he questioned sagely and Sigyn didn’t have a response to such a thoughtful query. “You mustn’t keep father waiting. I thank you, Sigyn, for letting me sooth my pain when I know you are hurting just as much at the loss of Loki.”

But Loki wasn’t dead.

“Grief is not something to be measured and bartered,” she replied as she debated telling him the truth.

“You are right,” he placed his arm across his chest, “good day, milady, and travel safely back to Xandar.”

“Safe travels to you as well,” she returned and watched him turn to leave. Before he took two steps, she said, “And Thor, be careful and watch your back. The Nine Realms have become much more dangerous as of late.”

Thor nodded his understanding, though he did not know the truth behind her words. Loki was out there, somewhere, and she had no idea what he could be up to. Could he have gone back to The Other? Perhaps to seek revenge or out of some psychological dependency? Is he hiding out, licking his wounds as he plans his next attack? Did he decide to simply walk away from it all… from them… from her?

As Sigyn headed towards the royal hall, she tried to piece together what happened. There had been a body that had been brought back. So if not Loki, then who? Perhaps an unfortunate guardsman whose illusion covered body was laid out like a prince? 

But that wouldn’t hold up once the body was being attended to.

So perhaps he pretended to be dead, used some magic to mimic the signs and then spirited himself away before the boat was sent out.

There were so many possibilities, and Sigyn was going to examine them all, starting with the guards who found his body. She was due to go back to Xandar, but she could put it off for a few extra days. Should she speak of this to the King? He could certainly help her, but if she was wrong and this was just a flight of fancy, then she would forever tarnish the honor salvaged in Loki’s death. 

This is why she told Thor nothing of her suspicions… he couldn’t have all of his hopes crushed based upon a single theory.

“The King is very busy,” one of the stewards said when she entered the hall, “he requests you accommodate him and take audience with him in his study.”

“Of course,” she nodded and headed towards one of the main studies built at the rear of the royal hall. Odin would have his hands full with the repairs to the city and to Asgard’s reputation. It had been a very rough past few seasons for the Golden Realm, but they were a strong and mighty people, they would get through it.

“That will be all,” she heard the King’s voice dismiss whoever was in the study as another steward opened the door. 

Several of the trade council members filed out, a few she recognized and gave polite greetings to. As it thinned out, she entered the study to see two councilors left, picking up the last of their things and saying a few final comments to the King.

Sigyn’s heart stopped and her breathing became tempered and shallow. 

“Lady Sigyn,” one of the trade councilors said as he walked past her.

“Councilor Tyril,” she replied automatically with a courteous nod to her head. 

“Steward,” the man before her spoke in a deep and authoritative voice, “shut the door, I do not wish to be disturbed.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the steward quickly did as he was told and she heard the heavy doors close behind her with an echoing thud.

“No…” was all she was able to utter as an all too familiar grin came to the man’s lips, “what have you done?”

/fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the story of the Serpent and the Liar. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks so much for reading and especial hugs and thanks to those who left comments and kudos! 
> 
> As for that ending, this isn't so much an end as a sorta-to-be-continued. A lot depends on whether or not Sigyn shows up in Thor: Ragnarok. But that film doesn't come out for another year+. 
> 
> I have a story idea of where I want things to go from here, but obviously it wouldn't be canon compliant, even with knowing how Ragnarok is going to go down. I'm debating to myself if I want to go ahead and write it or wait and see if Sigyn is going to show up in Ragnarok. I already started another Loki story which is a Shakespearean AU of Taming of the Shrew with Thor as the Shrew, so I think I'll work on that for a bit and see where my muse is on this afterwards. 
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading! :)


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